Season 8 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
by FaithB
Summary: Buffy Season 8 - The Slayerettes are called back from the corners of the world to a brand new slayer's academy in the safe, secluded settlement town of beautiful Meadowbrook, but what awaits them isn't the vacation from danger that they'd hoped for.
1. Episode 01 Californication Part One

CALIFORNICATION, PART I by Faith Bowie & Laota French next-tuesday dot org!  
TEASER 

SIRACUSA, ITALY - NIGHT 

It was a dark night in the Sicilian town square. Robin Wood was thrown back against the trunk of his parked rental car. Some feet away, Faith stood in an old, Corinthian fountain, soaking wet with her face cut and battered. 

"Give up?" she grunted, pulling herself back into fighting stance. Robin found his footing, drawing himself over to the sidewalk, where an injured Sicilian child was hiding herself under the table of an outdoor cafe. "Hey, where you think you're goin'?" Faith asked, leaping out of the fountain and crossing the square to Robin. "Party's over here!" Reaching her prey, she broke into a roundhouse kick.... 

SCHOONSELHOF CEMETERY - NIGHT 

A vampire fell back to the ground in a Belgian cemetery, grasping the arrow in his chest before exploding in a cloud of dust. Above his ashes stood Willow, holding her discharged crossbow. She reloaded it with conviction, starring down at the remains with a resolved expression. 

"That'll put marzipan in your-." A hand reached out in the dark and grabbed Willow's shoulder. Thoroughly startled, she spun around shrieking like a little girl, her crossbow discharged again. One could hear the distant roaring sound of a vamp dusting in the background as Willow found her center and realized it was only Kennedy that grabbed her. 

"Geeze, Will!" Kennedy barked, lowering her sword. "You need to get it together!" 

"I'm _'together'_," Willow argued. "I'm totally in the all together, but you can't just sneak up on someone when they're in kill-mode." 

"Right, more like kitten-up-a-tree mode." 

"Well, kinda fighting my way out of the big acre o'dead people, and-. Wait, where's Elise?" They heard a girl scream and turned to see.... 

LA BOCA, ARGENTINA - DAY 

Giles slipped in and out of consciousness as he lay at the mouth of a sunlit alleyway, out behind a little cafe in a small, Buenos Aires neighborhood. Further down the alley, Buffy battled fiercely with a huge, spiny black demon. She took the lid from a nearby trash barrel to fend off it's spines, already swinging a chain she found. They exchanged blows. 

"Maybe you're not hip to rules of the game, tiny," she panted. "We fight," she smashed his face with the chain, "you die," she kicked him back against the wall, "and I get to finish my coffee and little cookie thing...." She went in for the final blow when an Argentinean girl with a large book titled "Monstrorum Umbrarum" darted out from the back entrance and over to Giles. 

"¿Necesita usted la ayuda, Sr. Giles?" she asked desperately, standing over him and hugging her book. The demon turned to the girl and swatted her across the alley. 

"Matia, stay down!" Buffy yelled. The spiny demon turned back to Buffy and slammed her back into the wall. 

SIRACUSA 

A large, ancient looking vampire reeled backward from Faith's roundhouse, keeping him at a safe distance from Robin and the girl. Feeling her stride, Faith launched into defensive martial arts positions. 

"You like my 'Taste of the Matrix' combo?" she gasped, smiling painfully. As the vamp recoiled, Faith gingerly punched him in the nose and backhanded him, all the while making Hong Kong Fooey punctuation-al cries. "How 'bout my Praying Mantis?" As the vamp charged her down, he burst into ashes. She had whipped out her stake and dusted him. Robin, who had been comforting the child, looked dubiously up at Faith. 

"Praying Mantis?" he asked. 

"Yeah," she grunted matter-of-factly, a note of exhaustion in her voice. "They kill vampires." 

SCHOONSELHOF CEMETERY 

A Belgian girl had tripped backward when a vamp emerging from the ground had grabbed her ankle. She landed screaming between two graves as hands burst through the surface of there freshly dug plots. Willow struggled to reload her crossbow and Kennedy rushed the furthest vamp, taking his head with her sword. As she engaged with and killed a second vampire, one had managed to creep up behind her, getting her by the neck as she turned. Before he could go in for the kill, he dusted, and as the dust cleared, Willow stood in front of Kennedy, pale and shocked, an arrow clutched in her hand. 

"See?" she said in a weak voice. "Together." And she fainted dead away. 

LA BOCA 

Buffy struggled with the spiny demon, clearly having lost the upper hand. The girl, Matia, had sat Giles up, trying to revive him. 

"Despierte, Sr. Giles!" she begged. Giles opened his eyes, his face twisted with pain. "Aquí, tome tu libro," she said gently, prompting him to hold the open book. 

"Ah, sí," he gasped, straightening his glasses. "Gracias, Matia." He took the book from her and looked up at the demon, speaking defiantly in Latin. "Orationem pulchram non habens, scribo ista linea in lingua Latina!" He read aloud: "Quassa hostes mei!" The spiny demon's outer shell shattered, the innards erupting in black slime, exploding on them all. Buffy panicked and shielded herself with the trash lid. Matia and Giles were completely doused in guts and slime. "Pequeña puta!" Giles groused to himself fractiously, slipping on ooze as he struggled to his feet. Buffy dropped her makeshift weapons and sighed as her cell phone rang. 

SIRACUSA 

Faith's cell phone rang. She answered. 

"What?" 

SCHOONSELHOF CEMETERY 

Willow sat woozily on a tombstone, answering her cell phone. 

"Yeah? Oh, hey! Hi!" 

LA BOCA 

Buffy answered her call. 

"Xander?" she spoke up hastily. "Wha- yeah, we're fine." Giles gave her a dirty look as he mopped his face with his handkerchief. "Is it ready?" she pressed on. "...Good. We're on our way." She put away her cell and folded her arms with an imperturbable expression, making Giles look at her analytically. "It's time." 

NEVADA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA - DAY 

A beautiful autumn morning at the newly erected Summerland Academy. A number of girls were filing into the large multipurpose auditorium adjacent to the main school building as the shrill sound of a whistle broke the forest's silence. Andrew Wells' nervous voice could be heard coming over the P.A. system. 

"Good morning, slayers an' everybody, and welcome to Orientation Day at 'Summerland: School for the Gifted'. I am Andrew, you're master of ceremonies, wishing you a happy and constructive school year. Somebody hid my Queen record and my Breakfast Club soundtrack, so I'll be treating you to selections from 'Peter and the Wolf'. I can be found broadcasting from the old lodge today, should culprit choose to return my property. And remember those ponchos and galoshes tonight, ladies, because there's a chance of showers in the weekend forecast...." 

Buffy Summers, Robin wood, and Rupert Giles stood before the sea of young slayers, handing out colors coded folders. Giles tried to rein in the chaos by getting the girls' attention with a small pea whistle. He sounded it intermittently while directing the girls toward the main set of doublewide school issue doors. Rona followed behind two new Slayers, rolling her eyes acrimoniously at Giles. 

"There's always gotta be some control with these people. Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I'm here." A few girls giggled and a rather young looking girl about the age of twelve voiced her own view of Rona's comment. 

"To learn to be a Slayer? They're supposed to be the only ones left in the world who know about Slayers, right?" 

"I hear there's a few people in L.A.," said a skater-y girl just before she popped a wad of gum into her mouth. "Maybe even England. Show's what you know, short stack." 

Rona and the other two girls bulldozed into the crowd, each one pushing into the other and ultimately into Giles, who was overtaken in the commotion. Buffy sighed as the whistle got louder for a moment, then groaned loudly in frustration. She and Robin turned their attention to the slayers, never noticing Giles's disappearance. 

"It's all coming back to me," Buffy grumbled. "School was never really my thing. But, the first day can be fun. New people, new clothes, no homework. Just as long as you're not confused out of your mind." 

"There's an air of innocence about it, isn't there?" Robin asked with a certain amount of agreement. "They look so eager, so ready for anything. I wonder if they really know what they're getting into?" 

"I think some of them do," Buffy mused as she mechanically handed binder after binder to each girl that passed her. "At least most of them've learned the basic 'vampire bad' in the short time they've been slayers." 

"Were you that eager?" 

"No, I was **terrified**. I mean, I was this happy, dumb cheerleader, all about boys and the many shades of nail polish. I thought vampires were things in movies. Nobody warned me that I was gonna be...y'know, chosen." 

"Yikes," Robin sympathized with a grimace as he passed off the last of his binders. "Most of them are warned, trained first once they've been noted as a potential." 

"That's what I hear at least," Buffy shrugged. "I never did get the Slayer Handbook version of it." 

"It's a boring read, really. Archaic morals, contradicting motifs...." 

"_You've_ read the handbook?" She shook her head as she handed her own last binder out. "God, can someone get me a Xeroxed copy so I'm not the last person on earth to read it!?" 

"It was my mother's," Robin chuckled. "You mean you never got one? That explains a lot." She threw him a dirty look. "Anyway," he went on, "I think it should be revised.... Which is what I _would've_ said, had the Council not be vaporized." 

"Hey," she said to herself with a wicked smirk. "Now there's a whole council of slayers, and Giles is the only watcher.... _Sweet revenge!_" 

"Uh, don't be too hard on him," he laughed. 

"Are you kidding? My day has come! Hey, Giles!?" Buffy turned gloatingly to look for him, realizing just then that he'd disappeared. "Huh. He's starting to that thing where he's gone now, too. Maybe I really should get collars with bells on them -- or maybe I should give out more whistles...." They looked at each other and shook their heads in disgust. "Nah." They heard a faint, high-pitched sound coming from the hallway beside the multipurpose room. "Ooh, that would be the chosen one. Come on, I think he needs rescuing...." They went inside and followed the sound of panicked whistling to the connecting hallway. 

"Where did he get that whistle?" asked Robin. 

"At the gift shop in Buenos Aires, I think." She started to fume as she recalled the trip. "He said it was for directing the 'different houses' of students, or something, but lately he's been blowing it to emote. When he's mad, when someone's not listening-. I think I ever heard him blow it when he was hungry." 

"So I'm guessin' you wanna stomp it into tin foil?" 

"Stomp somethin'...." They stopped in front of the teacher's lounge, where they found Giles looking over the modest accommodations, totally lost. He glanced over his shoulder at them as they entered the room, letting the whistle fall from his lips to hang on the ball chain around his neck. He cleared his throat. 

"We really ought to place signs on the inside of the doors as well as out," Giles noted, trying to sound casual, but looking utterly nonplussed. "Promote a feeling of orientation and simplicity.... Where am I, exactly?" 

We cut to the southern end of the school. Xander was giving Dawn a tour of the campus before classes started. They walked down a hallway, heading to the new library. 

"This place is so the kick!" Dawn gushed, giddy as she looked the school over. "When Angel called and said he'd be financing us, I thought we were gonna end up with clap board and those cheap-ass Sims doors. Or something all gothic." 

"Yeah," Xander sighed, "when the crews came down here, he'd drop by every night and make this big stink about tempered glass in the windows. Lucky for us, I was here to supervise." 

"Xander, I don't think you were supposed to do that." 

"Hey, I'm a licensed professional. Well, not 'licensed' in the sense of having one anymore, but that's just a formality, think some Mormons. I have experience, baby." 

"Couldn't have gone the extra mile and supervised us up a Starbucks?" she asked. As they entered the library, Dawn was flabbergasted by the scale of it. 

The library at Summerland was dark and labyrinthine, every inch of wall space covered in books, all bathed in the beautiful and eerie morning glow from the over-large picture windows and the panoramic skylights above. It had a full two stories, the second of which could be accessed by a great, oak staircase. The main floor had a large pentagon like seating area, where the floor was sunken in a few feet, carpeted stairs leading down into it. Dawn thought it looked like an empty pool, and had the fleeting urge to fill it with water. 

"Dawny," Xander began proudly, "say hello to the new Bat Cave." 

"Hello, new Bat Cave," she gasped, gazing around her in wonder. "It's so...bookie. Did you help with this?" 

"Well, I put in my two cents." He gestured to a massively large, reinforced book cage to the right of the door. "Figured it'd come in handy. Want me to lock you up before classes? Test the durability?" He held the door open for her, making her roll her eyes at the geekiness of it. 

"Uh, no thanks...." 

"Aw, come on! You're the only one of us that never got locked in a book cage. Think of it as...a Scooby rite of passage." Dawn took a quick, self-conscious look around. 

"Okay," she giggled, running into the cage, "but you have to lemme out when I say!" He shut the door and she spazzed out, growling and rattling the cage door. after a minute of that, when she'd gotten the thrill out of her system, she turned to Xander and smiled complacently. "Alright, now let me out." 

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY - HOME ECONOMICS ROOM - 8:21 A.M. 

Willow and Kennedy were preparing for class. The first bell rang and a few dozen girls came filing in. Willow sat on a high stool at one of the workstations, nervously rearranging her materials. Kennedy took a seat next to her. 

"Okay, everyone," Willow began to address the class. "Simmer...everybody. Welcome to Home Economics. I'm Ms. Rosenberg, and this is my assistant, Kennedy. Now, let's start with something small. We're making the big cookie today. Everybody has a recipe book in front of them, so mind the ovens and have fun, everybody. ...And simmer." 

"You said simmer twice," Kennedy noted, rubbing her hand over Willow's shoulder affectionately. "Restless?" 

"Kinda," Willow muttered rapidly, her voice quick and bubbly. "It's like -- okay, I'm used to teaching, but, butterflies. What if...I'm not good at Home Ec? What if -- what if I scar them for life, completely ruining the joy of baking for them forever, a-and their kids have'ta buy cookie dough incense, just to get their comfort cooking fix?" 

Kennedy gave her a glib smile. "You had a coffee, didn't you?" 

"I might've, there might've been coffee." 

"It's okay, Will. I'm nervous too, but we can handle this, and it'll probably get easier. I'll take care of the hard stuff." 

She reached for a cookie sheet and Willow plucked it away, returning it to it's designated position. "Aw, that's sweet -- but that doesn't go there." 

"Do you want me to grease the pans?" 

"Well, ya kinda hafta do it a certain way." 

"I can grease a pan, Will," Kennedy assured, getting perturbed. 

"Of course you can grease a pan, silly! ...But...don't grease _my_ pans." 

"They're not 'you're' pans." 

"Oh, I know that! For all intents and purposes, they're not my pans. But see these pans?" She gestured to all of the pans at her workstation. "Okay? These are **mine**." Just then, Dawn came rushing into the room, looking disheveled and annoyed. "Dawny!" Willow started, a little shocked. "Hey, simmer down. What's up, why are you late?" 

"Had a little trouble," Dawn growled, slumping down in the seat opposite Willow. "Xander wouldn't lemme out of the book cage." 

After first period, a fair amount of the students and teachers wandered the halls in disorientation. Willow had been splashing her face with cold water in the bathroom and caught sight of Xander on her way back to class. 

"Hey, Xander!" she called out, trying to catch up to him. "How was Shop Class?" 

"God, don't ask," he grumbled down-heartedly as they walked down the hall. "The kids these days, they got not respect. None of them took me seriously!" 

"Well, you are kinda missing an eye. Being a Shop teacher, it's not good for establishing competence, the whole mutilation thing. Remember Mr. Vance, with the missing fingers?" 

Xander giggled wistfully, but his expression fell to grim realization. "Oh, god. I'm Mr. Vance now? When did this happen!? ...Being a Shop teacher bites!" as they walked on, they were passed in the hall by Dawn, who met up with Rona and the girls she was talking with earlier. 

"Did you guys take hand-to-hand?" Rona asked the others. "That Faith is a full-on psychopath!" 

"Faith is teaching fighting?" Dawn asked in disbelief. "I thought Giles was-." 

"No," the skater-y girl interjected. "Mr. Giles was teaching swordplay or something. He made us touch a knife, it was freaky." 

"I only got Home Ec.," said Dawn. "But, it was eventful! We made the big cookie." 

Giles strode past them in the hallway, looking as though he were taking inventory of the students. "No running!" he chided some of them. "This is a school, not a.... Where the bloody hell am I?" He walked toward the front doors and found Buffy and Robin by drinking fountains, looking absently at the empty Principal's office. "Oh, thank god!" he sighed, clustering in with them. "I stepped out to wash up after class and got a bit...turned around." 

"That's funny," Buffy said absently. 

"I assure you, it isn't," Giles went on. "If I don't get back soon, it could muddle the whole schedule." 

"No, not you being lost -- _lame_. I mean the principal's office. It's kinda weird having one and no principal. Like vampires with silverware. And yes, being a slayer has tragically affected my analogical skills." 

"You could be the principal," Robin suggested faintly, not really paying attention. "Being the longest running slayer, you're kinda the natural choice to lead the school." 

"Maybe," said Buffy. "But Giles has all this teaching experience." She turned casually to Giles. "You could always do the headmaster thing?" 

Giles shook his head dismissively. "No. I rather think those days are behind me, now. Robin, on the other hand, was cut down in his prime, you might say. It's only fitting that he fill the position." 

"Yeah, you're right," Robin conceded quickly. "I am the only one here with a teaching degree." 

"You are a teacher," Buffy went on. "You're not a slayer, or anything, but you could teach. You could teach lunch. You know, I should probably be the one to-." 

"Teach lunch?" Robin asked curtly. 

"As the only Council representative," Giles interjected, "leading slayers is more than my just my calling. It's a destiny, handed down through generations-." 

"All of which you were present for," Buffy mumbled. "I mean, let's face, I'm the only one qualified-." 

"Qualified?" Robin laughed. "I've seen your résumé, Buff. You're not qualified to melt cheese on SPAM." 

"Excuse me for taking care of my family and saving the world," Buffy snapped. "I'm sorry if actually important things got in the way of formal education-." 

"Important things!" Giles snickered. "Please, you act as if you were the only one with serious problems. You have no idea the pressure I was under during school -- over the family loss and contention, the daily curriculum, the nightly occult studies-." 

"Yeah, young Giles is the perfect example of grace under pressure!" Buffy snarked. "Tell me the part about invoking dark magics and killing your friends again?" 

Giles gave Buffy a cold, threatening stare, then slowly brought the whistle up to his lips. She yanked it from his hand, breaking the ball chain; threw it on the floor and crushed it flat under her heel, making him gasp deeply in horror. While they continued to quarrel, Robin felt something tug his sleeve. He found himself being dragged around the corner by Faith, who was still flushed from the workout of her first class. They could hear Giles and Buffy's argument as they walked a few doors down to the multipurpose room. 

"I can get another whistle!" they heard Giles threaten. 

"You can get a _hundred_ whistles!" Buffy shouted maniacally. "And I'll stomp every one! All the whistles in the world couldn't help you...." The sound died off behind them as Faith walked into the multipurpose room, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. 

"Seriously, Robin," Faith sighed, "you really need to just tune those two out." 

"Sure," Robin joked, "but then it's just easy listening in my head and that clouds up everything else." He closed the gym door and stretched a bit. Gingerly testing his tight muscles, he reached up and loosened his tie. Faith set her bag down and sat Indian style on a mat to do some stretches before class, even if it _was_ just orientation. "So how's your first day in the wonderful world of teaching been, Miss Faith," he asked with a small, teasing grin as he leaned against the bleachers. 

"Dunno," Faith said, mid-stretch. "This'd be home room." 

"Think it'll go well?" he amended. "I mean, you're stretching for homeroom and a view of the rules and grading scale." 

"God I hope so. Not exactly used'a this." 

Robin moved toward Faith and crouched beside her. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. We tried to pick courses you'd excel at teaching." 

"So wha'd they stick you with?" 

"The boring sorta stuff, Economics, Slayer History, and English." 

"Damn...you're not jokin'." Faith smirked, getting ahold of the end of Robin's tie. 

"Well I love a challenge," he went on. "Economics can be more fun when you try to explain it like an island that only imports guns and cake." He let Faith pull him down for a deep kiss. "I'm thinking chocolate," he murmured against her lips with a smile, "everybody loves chocolate, right?" 

"Well, I do," she laughed softly. 

He grinned and pulled another kiss from her. "See, somehow I knew that." 

"Oh yeah? Maybe you're genius material?" 

"Or psychic. Andrew's been trying to convince me I'm the black Charles Xavier." He chuckled, stroking Faith's cheek with his thumb. "Personally, I don't see it. I'm more of a dashing, Will Smith in 'Bad Boys' kinda guy. What d'you think?" He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. 

"Uhh,...are those movies? 'Cause I'm not a big whale dork, so I got no clue what you're talkin' about." 

"Yeah, they're movies -- hey. Are you implying that I'm a dork? What happened to genius?" 

"Bill Gates is a genuis...and a dork." She smirked and wrapped his tie around her hand, reeling him in for another hungry kiss as the doors swung open and a few of the students came in early, before the bell. 

Robin rolled over Faith and pinned her arms down. "And _that_...is how you pin down a Valdari demon." 

"Yeah, and _this_ is how you take advantage of a blind spot-." With that, Faith tossed Robin back onto the floor, mounted him, and straddled his waist, pinning his wrists to the ground. 

He coughed, wide-eyed, having had the wind knocked out of him. "You win," Robin choked, "that's why you're the one teaching hand-to-hand...." 

Faith grinned and glanced up at the early students. "Uh, _hello_, in the hall until the bell rings! Says so right on the door." 

The girls scurried out, giggling to each other, and shut the door. Robin looked up, remembering himself. "Sorry -- inappropriate 'school hours' behavior...." 

Faith squirmed on top of him, an expression of complacent satisfaction playing out on her face. "S'okay. Much my fault as it is yours." 

Robin closed his eyes for a beat, and then smiled. "Thinkin' at the moment, more your fault, if you keep movin' like that..." 

"Like, what?" she gasped, trying for innocent. 

Robin flashed her a reciprocating look. "I think you know more than you're letting on." Faith tucked her hair behind her ear and got to her feet, lending her hand to Robin. After pulling himself up to full height, he gave her a small kiss on the forehead. "Good luck, Faith," he said kindly. 

"You too." 

"Thanks.... Maybe tonight, we can meet for dessert?" He winked as he opened the door and slipped out. The bell rang and large group of young slayers started piling into the classroom. 

SUMMERLAND MULTIPURPOSE ROOM - AFTERNOON 

The rest of orientation day went by in a mad rush, most of the gang teaching their perspective classes. But no one saw Buffy again until the afternoon assembly. Along with Xander and Willow, she stood on the stage of the packed multipurpose room; ready to impart her special Buffy wisdom -- the old SIT survivors sat in the front row. While the students noisily settled into the bleachers, Willow stepped up to the podium. 

"Everybody?" She said timidly into the mic. Her amplified voice barely carried over the noise and the slayers continued to talk amongst themselves. "People...? _Hey_!" A hush fell over the crowd and Willow composed herself. "Okay, simmer down. Buffy would like to say a few words, and here she is to say them, so please give her your full attention. Thank you." 

Willow stepped aside and Buffy took the podium. 

"I don't know any nicer way to say this," Buffy started, a somber tone dampening her voice. "What you signed on for isn't just a school or camp. It's an army,...and the only thing that stands between this world and the forces that wanna destroy it. The Slayers. Maybe you haven't been told about the vampires, demons. Monsters. Maybe you have. But whatever you've been told, you're probably afraid now. You are if you've been paying attention. It's the things we all fear, and we're the ones who have to fight them. I went through what all of you are going through now, and it scared the hell out of me. But I don't feel sorry for you. If anything, feel sorry for the other side." A rowdy girl in the back hollered her approval. Buffy flinched and continued. "I know some of you don't understand that. Some of you are wondering whether or not you're brave enough, or strong enough.... You are. Whoever you are, whatever you've been through -- you're here because you're the chosen ones. Chosen to beat back the rising tides chaos. It'll be hard, and painful, but it'll be worth it. Maybe not for you, not yet anyway, but when you understand -- months or years from now -- what you've meant to the world, everything before this moment will be a blur. A dream. You won't be jack squat compared to what you'll become." Xander broke into a simple-minded grin at the words 'jack squat'. "So now you know you know what you are," Buffy went on, "and how I feel. I know I'll be proud to lead you into battle anytime, anywhere-." 

Buffy's speech was cut off sharply by the house lights going off. 

SUMMERLAND MULTIPURPOSE ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

There was a great rumbling noise in the auditorium. Buffy felt someone grab her arm as she squinted through the relative darkness. 

"Will?" she whispered anxiously. 

"Yeah," Willow responded. They heard a girl scream. Something bumped into them, groping at them and stepping on their feet. "Xander!" Willow called out dumbly. 

"If this is a P.R. stunt to punch up the drama for your speech, Buff," Xander rambled, "gotta say, it's leaning a bit towards the grotesque-." 

"What?" Buffy snapped. "Somebody get the lights." They heard a voice scream, and then a chorus of others followed it, panicking and shrieking like children. "Where's Giles?" 

"Big shock -- he's in the library," Xander replied. 

"Go there, tell him what's going on." 

"I'm on it -- in the land of the darkness, the one eyed man is king." 

"That's the land of the blind, Xand." 

"Then the playing field is level at last!" 

"Will," Buffy growled sarcastically, "make sure he doesn't flush himself or something. I love you guys, but I am **not** putting my hand in the toilet." 

Xander and Willow stumbled away as Buffy went upstage and searched for the light switch along the wall, moving toward a glowing exit sign. The sound of panic grew nearly deafening. As she moved past a knot of rigging, she felt something foreign for a split second. Tall and solid. Before she could identify it, it spun around and landed a swinging backhand to her jaw, screaming something unholy. Buffy staggered sideways, clinging to the rigging. 

"Mess with the slayers, you're gonna loose yer frickin' fronts!" 

"Faith!?" Buffy asked. 

"Screw you!" Faith snorted, cringing in the relative darkness as she realized who she hit. "Scared the crap fantastic outta me -- what are you doin' sneakin' up and pervin' on people like that?" 

"I was trying to find the light switch, Faith." 

"What, that big light-switchy deal back there?" Faith asked, thumbing over her shoulder -- no real logic sinking in. 

"You found it?" Buffy asked dryly as the noise in the auditorium died down. 

"Yeah, an' it ain't down the small o'my fresh and silky back." 

"Never mind, I'll get it myself. Just -- make sure the girls get out. Keep 'em calm, take 'em to the library." 

"No sweat, B. Where'd ya think they went?" 

"Well, the fire exits didn't open, so my guess is they piled out to the main hallway." 

"Good call." Faith plowed confidently past her toward the other end of the stage. 

Buffy heard her speedy footfall and then the door shutting. She muttered to herself as she felt her was through the dark and struggled to take a small stairway without falling. "Well, sure, if you wanna leap majestically through the din like a big, cool-. _Ooh_, light!" She found the large, industrial switch and threw it up. The house lights came back on and Buffy found herself near the stage exit. She peered out into the auditorium. No one was there. 

Out in the brightly lit hallway, Faith found Willow were taking roll call of the huge group of scared and injured girls. Two were holding up one lifeless teenager. 

"This everybody, Red?" Faith asked. 

"Just about," said Willow. They heard a loud, crashing noise. 

"So, we're good here," Faith mumbled, distracted by the sound. "B said she wanted you to take the kids t'the library. Sounds like she could use some back-up...." Faith turned and ran headlong toward the crashing. 

"Faith!" Willow shouted. 

"_See_ ya!" Going around the long way, Faith hit the end of a lesser hallway, following the sound. The stretch of hall in front of her intersected with another from the other side of the auditorium. She went to turn the corner that led into it and got stopped in her tracks -- Buffy flew out in front of her and slammed into the row of lockers at her left. Faith heard growling and peered around the corner to see something that made her eyes widen with fear. "_Hot damn_...." 

Back in the library, Willow herded in the last of the slayers. 

Kennedy rushed over and met her with a bear hug, stroking her hair back. "Is everybody okay?" she asked. 

"I dunno," Willow sighed miserably. "I still haven't found Dawn." 

Xander, who hand been helping and injured girl by the stairs, turned and bounded over to them, almost tripping over his feet. "You mean Dawn wasn't with you guys?" he asked frightfully. "Oh, god. Where would she be...." 

Giles and Robin descended the stairs, Giles with a book in one hand and a burning pot of red oil in the other. 

"We need to spread out and find her," Kennedy insisted. 

Giles set his things on a worktable. "There's a weapons cabinet beside the book cage," he said. "Better to arm yourself before going back out into that." 

Robin headed over and pulled the tall cabinet doors open. He threw Kennedy a rifle and took out a double-barreled shotgun off the wall for himself. Searching the shelves a second, he found a zippered vinyl case containing tranquilizer darts. "Are we gonna sing the demons to sleep, too?" Robin asked Giles, his voice snarky and disapproving. 

"No," Giles quipped, folding his arms and meeting Wood with a sarcastic tone, "I thought I'd open a school full of children and hide bullets in the cabinets with colorful Easter grass." 

"Sorry," Robin grumbled, loading his gun. Kennedy went to do the same, took the bag of tranqs and then the two of them headed out. 

"Be careful," Giles called after them. 

At that same time, Buffy and Faith tangled with something wolf-like in the hall. It was huge and muscular -- nearly the size of a grizzly -- and covered in tangled black fur. It tackled the slayers together, three masses sliding across polished floor, and it started crushing the life out of them. Fighting for breath on their backs, side by side, they turned to each other briefly. Faith looked into the beast's beady, human-like blue eyes and gave Buffy a knowing gaze. They both pulled their knees up and kicked-off hard into the monster's massive chest, sending it sprawling back. They got to their feet quickly. 

"What do you think it is?" Buffy gasped in pain. 

"I could give a rat's ass," grunted Faith. The beast was recoiling a few feet way when, without warning, the power went down over the whole school. "Who the hell keeps doin' that!" she asked herself, voice breaking. 

Meanwhile, in the library, Giles and Willow were burning herbs and lighting candles as their power went out. 

"Rona," Giles called out, heading with his light to the weapons cabinet. "There are flashlights and more candles in the chest outside the restrooms. Pass them out and don't give candles to the younger girls." Rona nodded and waved her two new friends over to come and help her. Giles took a crossbow off the wall, then pulled out keys from his pocket and unlocked a tackled box full of arrows. Taking only what he needed for a few shots, he relocked the box and loaded his bow. "Willow?" At his call, Willow sped over to Giles and he handed her his candle. He picked up a large, army-issue flashlight with his free hand. "Finish the protection spell and watch over the students. I'd wager the others could use a hand out there." 

"You're leaving, too?" Willow asked, sounded disappointed. "I can't take care of all these girls by myself." 

"I need a powerful enchanter to finish the spell, Willow. Can you do this for me?" 

After a moment, Willow smiled gloomily. "Good luck." 

"Not as of late, but I appreciated the sentiment." He smiled back at her gently, then turned and left her standing in the doorway. 

"...Watch your back," she said. 

Out in the shadowy maze of hallways, Robin and Kennedy advanced cautiously toward the sounds of fighting. They heard a creaking sound behind them and spun around to see Giles turning his flashlight on with a sober expression. 

"I've brought light," he said simply. They nodded and turned back to the noise. 

Suddenly, Faith barrel-rolled out in front of them, spinning into the wall. Kennedy sprinted out into the darkness at whatever swiped Faith and fired at it. The thing swatted Buffy down and lumbered out into the light of the windows from an open classroom. Robin fired on the beast as well, but seeing it in the light, with three darts hanging from it's hide, it was clear to him it would take a bit more to bring the thing down. Faith rose to her feet and raced back down the hall toward the library. 

"You're running away!?" Kennedy shouted after her in disbelief. 

Buffy, bleeding from the head, pulled herself up and grabbed the monster's back leg, trying to pull it back from the others. Taking the lead as the Robin and Kennedy fell back, Giles danced his flashlight in the beast's eyes, stunning it momentarily. He took his shot. It stuck in the creature's neck, barely annoying it. He loaded the second arrow clumsily and dropped the flashlight as Kennedy cocked her gun. The struggling monster looked at her, it's eyes startling her as she tried to take aim. Giles shot the monster in the hamstring of it's free leg, causing it's hindquarters to buckle. It threw back it's head and howled, shocking Kennedy into squeezing the trigger prematurely. The dart glanced off the lockers and jack-knifed into the air. As it fell, it embedded itself in the back of Giles's hip. 

"Oh, bloody brilliant!" he shouted at Kennedy, yanking the dart out as he sunk lethargically to the floor, right in the monster's path. From down the hall, Faith ran at top speed toward them and jumped in front of Giles with a larger than average fire extinguisher. She sprayed the creature's beady eyes and smacked it's skull with the broad side of the tank over and over, until Robin and Kennedy put a few more tranquillizers in it. Finally, the beast gave in and toppled onto it's side, it's breath wheezing like a dog. Faith dropped the tank and looked a Giles tepidly, having no clue he'd been tranq-ed. Buffy rushed over to him and checked for other injuries. 

"H-he's gonna be okay, right?" Kennedy stuttered, sounding a little worried. "It's just a tranquillizer." 

"...He's gonna be out for a little while," said Buffy, carefully taking his glasses off and slipping them into his breast pocket. She looked up and Kennedy accusingly, her lips pursed, and then turned to Robin. "Take him back to the library. We'll be behind you with this thing. Gotta find out what is -- how to kill it." 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - DUSK 

There was low, rolling thunder. The sun was setting by the time Faith and Buffy were able to drag the wolf creature into the library, shoving it into the book cage. There were Slayers all over with lit candles and flashlights, mostly settled down in the pentagon. Xander had long since come back with Dawn, who was in the cafeteria, scamming chocolate milk and red Jell-O. Giles had been laid out on a clear space of the main stairs, and Dawn was leaning over him with a little green jar of smelling salts. Willow was at a worktable, burning herbs and finishing a spell, reading from one of the new tomes Giles acquired in La Boca, "Liber Magorum" by Nicolae Maximoff. She had the pot of oil simmering on a Bunsen burner and carefully lowered in a bismuth nugget on a pewter chain. 

Willow chanted: 

"The Magi's Oil, aide this wildlings way, Armor of the Hero, grant thy blessed stay, The Ring we make, let no man break, Panoplia Herois, Potio Magorum.... Annulus defendans a malo!" 

There was an audible distortion in the atmosphere. The pan of oil began to boil and darken, thick smoke rising. Willow turned back to Buffy and smiled. 

"I give you a no-carnage zone," she chirped. "In a manner of speaking. No overtly evil thing can enter the library. This Nicolae Maximoff has access to some pretty heady stuff. And his Swato of Pomona -- not that I had time to read it, given our dire circumstances -- was so involved! And there are chapters here, on dream interpretation-." 

"So this ring of protection thing should work?" asked Buffy. 

"Like a groom after a sumble!" Willow giggled to herself, but noticed no reciprocation. "It...looses some funny in the translation. But, yeah, this should keep the violence out until we can figure out what to do about Clifford, here." 

Buffy turned back to the book cage, trying to push it's door shut on the creature. "Hey, Faith?" Buffy grunted. "Mind givin' me a hand with this?" Faith stood stock-still beside her, frowning at the picture windows. "What?" Buffy looked over her shoulder at the window, not seeing and thing remarkable. Dawn looked up from tending to Giles. "Is this you way of gettin' out of the muscle work? 'Cause if you think I'm gonna do this by-." Dawn suddenly shrieked. She was starring wide-eyed at the window. "Dawn? What is it? What did you see? 

Buffy looked again, walking toward the window. There was a rumble of thunder and she saw a firefly go by. It lit the dark for a moment, moving over something black and ragged, and then blinked out. She went closer, and let her hand rest on the window frame. The fly blinked on again, and lit the features of a large, canine face...and beady, hazel eyes. 

"There's another one?" Dawn asked sheepishly. A flash of lighting lit the nightscape for less than a second, and Buffy jumped back fearfully. Some of the girls started screaming when they saw them.... There were a dozen similar, wolf-like monsters, circling the school. 

To Be Continued.... 


	2. Episode 02 Californication Part Two

CALIFORNICATION, PART II aka RIPPED AT THE SEAMS ( Episode 2 ) by Faith Bowie & Laota French - read more at next-tuesday dot org!  
TEASER 

NEVADA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA - NIGHT 

Soon after where we left off, there were a dozen wolf-like monsters outside Summerland Academy, circling the school. After the initial attacks and capture, everyone had congregated in the library, which was now protected by magick. Holding their book bags and flickering candles, the Slayers In Training were panicking and whispering to each other; Buffy had gotten a roster from Willow and waved Dawn over, who left Giles reluctantly and crept over to her big sister. 

"Dawn," Buffy started importantly, "we need a head count of all the girls and everybody else while you're at it. I've got this weird feeling that we're missing someone." 

Dawn pursed her lips in annoyance. "We're having a monster crisis and I'm doing inventory? Fine, whatever. But if I miss monster maul-age, it'll be on your head." She turned back to the SITs and started taking names. To take their minds off the situation, Xander and Faith had been peering into the book cage, both of them tilting their heads and trying to decide on something about their restless, tranqued-out monster. 

"How about...Scout?" Xander muttered. 

"Dude, you named the last one," Faith snarled. "This time Harley if it's a boy, and Pizz'one if it's a girl." 

"It's a boy," Xander insisted. The beast rolled onto it's back. "Whoa, okay, super a girl." 

"Or a ragin' eunuch." 

"Who's a pretty puppy?" Xander taunted. "Who's my special lady?" He poked his finger through the cage, teasing, and the monster swiped at him with a weak growl. 

Xander leapt back in horrified comeuppance and Faith shook her head in disgust. "You are such a punk." 

Meanwhile, Buffy was pulling a chair up beside Willow, who'd been flipping through the best of Giles' occult book stash, trying to read by flashlight. 

"This is buffalo-pucky," Willow groaned at the book in frustration. 

"No luck?" Buffy asked glumly. 

"The only demon that fits the description of our wolven guy is the werewolf. But we know werewolf -- werewolf is a very good friend of mine -- and this guy is **no** werewolf." 

"Keep looking. Giles bought the family size value book set from La Boca, maybe there's something in those. I just know we're missing something...." 

"Um, hey?" asked the skatery girl who was sitting in the pentagon with Rona. She was timidly raising her hand. "Can I say something?" 

"What?" Buffy asked a bit distracted. 

"Well, I was sittin' in the back row when the lights went out, and I heard the screaming start behind me. I was the last out to the hall -- maybe one of the others got taken." 

"Dawn's doing roll call," Willow said cajolingly. "Whoever's missing, we'll find her." Buffy put her hand up to stop Willow and gave her a knowing look. "What is it?" 

"She said she heard the screaming start behind her," Buffy noted. 

"We all heard screaming." 

"But she was sitting in the back row. I had a good look at the auditorium before the lights went down and I didn't see anybody against the wall.... This might sound crazy, but what if whoever got the lights started the screaming?" 

"Why would the bad guy scream like a girl?" 

"I'm thinking to incite panic?" 

"Right," Xander chimed in. "They hear a girl screaming in the dark, they all start screaming and nobody knows what to do. Easy pickin's. Lucky for us, the girls got out alright." He looked disdainfully at the monster. Stirring awake now, it looked back at him sleepily. "Okay, the people-eyes on that thing are startin' to freak me out." 

"Maybe we should put crazy 'n' crazy t'gether?" Faith suggested. "This thing has workin' human parts. The lights go out, a girl starts screamin'.... I dunno, maybe I did too much junk as a kid, but I think Pizz'one is a person. Or a thing-thinger." 

"Shape-shifter?" Xander offered. 

"That seems a little far-fetched," said Willow, closing volume U through W of the Encyclopedia of Giant, Cursed Evil. 

"Dunno about that," Faith went on. "There was this chick back in Boston. Some cheerleader. She got a leather jacket from her granddad that had this shifty mojo, and she'd freak out like a some monster bear or somethin' and rob the Quickstop; shred people to get her rocks off, but her eyes didn't change. Maybe this thing's got a jacket." Buffy was just about to roll her eyes at Faith when the lights came back on. 

"Looks like it's google time." Buffy asked Willow. "Maybe they have some accounts of this thing online." 

"I'm on it," Willow responded, sounding a bit too pleased with herself. She tucked into a computer table and got started. "Maybe a cross reference with shape-shifters?" 

"You really don't think-." Buffy stopped herself when she saw the interest in Faith's eyes. "Um...shape-shifters, right. Better safe than sorry." 

Dawn came back to Buffy with a marked up roster. "Well, everybody on the list is accounted for," she sighed. "And _we're_ all here, so we should be safe." 

Just then, Andrew's voice came over the P.A. 

_"Alright, we're back on the air, again. No worries, everybody, I fell on my keys when the power went down in the lodge, but I found a Snoopy band-aid, I'm alright now, and I'll be playing you the hits of the eighties, nineties, and today until lights-out."_ Buffy looked up at the speaker, something of dread in her eyes. "Andrew...." 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - NIGHT 

They stood around silently for a moment, as "Tainted Love" came over the sound system. 

"Wow," Dawn mused to herself. "I-I can't believe we didn't notice that he wasn't here." 

"I **told** you to get a headcount," Buffy reminded her while crossing the room to the weapons cabinet, searching. "Remember, when I said I thought someone was missing?" 

"Oh, sure, blame _me_ for not remembering. It's not my fault you didn't think of him-." 

"Fine, it's nobody's fault. We just need to get him back now. If those things figure out where he is-." 

"Need any help?" Robin asked. "Just one of those things seemed like enough for two slayers." 

"Which is why I'm not feeding my friends to them," Buffy snapped. 

"Hey!" Xander groused. "What keeps happening to the anti-evil faction?" 

"Yeah," Willow chimed in, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "We're supposed to be this unit, but whenever things start getting a little dangerous, you get all martyr-y and Simone de Beauvoir on us. We get it, go girl power, whoopty-freakin'-doo!" 

"Look," Buffy said, "this isn't just 'a little dangerous,' and we can't have the same argument every time I need to go it alone! I'm fast and I can get it done if I'm careful; the whole preternatural violence thing, not gonna do us any good this time. And sitting around and fighting about it sure as hell won't help Andrew." 

Practically all of Buffy's friends were glaring at her until Willow shook her head and went back to her search engines. "Alright," she sulked. "I'm a good friend, I won't rag on your out-moded, Utilitarian slayer needs. Which are still out-moded, by the way...." 

"Thanks," Buffy snorted sarcastically, pulling a hurling ax from the weapons cabinet. She turned to Faith and arched her brows expectantly. 

"Am I coming?" Faith asked casually. 

"I guess it's your call." Faith looked back a Giles with concern. "He'll be okay." Buffy assured her. "This place is protected, and he's kinda surrounded by super people." 

"Yeah, super people that don't know their ass from their elbow," Faith said. "Look, if it gets wild here -- if that thing wakes up and starts tearin' into us-." 

"So stay." They exchanged stolid looks. Buffy's expression softened. "Take care of them." After taking up her ax, Buffy turned and stormed out the door, many of the other's watching as she went down the hallway and out of fire exit. 

It was bleak out on the grounds that night; there was a fierce electrical storm and the wind blew as though hell was coming on the horizon. Usual weather for fall in Nevada County. Their was the distant sound of effort -- fighting -- and Buffy followed, hoping Andrew hadn't met one of the monsters. 

Back in the library, Dawn turned back to all the slayers. "Okay," she started. "Willow helped us all make the big cookie for cabin warming, this'd be a good time to eat if you're hungry-." 

The beast in the cage suddenly began struggling to its feet. It let out a fearsome howl, causing Giles to practically bolt upright. He clutched at the stitch in his chest groggily as Faith crossed the room to him, trying to keep him from getting up too soon. 

"Hey, you okay?" she asked softly. "I dunno how bad a header you took; maybe you shouldn't be movin'." He looked about the room and patted himself down for his glasses. Faith pulled them from his breast pocket and let him slip them on. 

"Is everyone here?" he asked back, sounding winded and confused. "Was anyone hurt? The spell -- did Willow do the spell?" 

"Yeah, it's fine." 

The wolf monster let out another howl. 

Giles looked to the book cage, then looked to Willow, Robin, and Xander. "You brought that thing here!?" he spat, sounding scandalized. 

"We have to find out what it is!" Willow argued. "We don't know how to kill it-. And, we think it might be a person." 

"_My_ idea," Faith piped up, raising her hand smugly. 

Giles looked at them all as if they were insane. "Good lord -- you all don't do this **every** time I get knocked out, do you?" The beast let out another howl, but this time it was met with a chorus of others from outside the school, some much closer than others. "What was that?" he asked Faith timorously. 

"It's got some homies out back." One of the monsters outside put it's wet, dog-nose on the window, streaking and fogging up the glass around his nostrils. 

Giles moved back a bit in quiet horror. "How many?" 

"'Bout twelve." 

"And Buffy?" 

"She went to get Andrew from the lodge." 

"_Well, this is priceless, isn't it?_" Giles muttered to himself, his voice cracking into a high, nervous twitter. "_I'm out for a few bloody hours and the whole world sinks to sodding hell, **perfect**...._" OUTSIDE SUMMERLAND ACADEMY - NIGHT

Meanwhile, Buffy stalked about the dark campus grounds toward the lodge, weaving through a small patch of trees by the nature trail. She raised her axe up cautiously, trying to pick up on the sound of struggle she heard earlier. But in a moment, frightening to behold, one of the monsters crept up behind her, silently and menacingly trailing her movement. She turned back to look toward the school, but saw nothing. The monster tackled her from behind, slamming her to the ground, the ax knocked from her grip. Being a bit small to pin, Buffy rolled herself out from under the monster and onto her feet, grabbed her ax, and took a swing. The blade landed itself deep in the monster's shoulder. It let out a roar at its bloody wound and started rearing back on its hind legs like a spooked horse. Buffy tried to pull her ax out of its flesh and was lifted up off the ground with the creature as it leapt. Not knowing what else to do, she put her feet up on the beast for leverage and pulled back, but was thrown to the ground for her efforts. 

Buffy's struggle with the monster was drawing attention on the grounds. Two of the other monsters came charging at them from the school. Buffy started at full-run to the lodge, only to find the source of the early sounds of struggle ahead. She hardly believed her eyes at first, but the flashing lightening illuminated something brawling with a monster. In his classic, two-fisted style, Angel grappled with a large wolven beast. Buffy caught up to him, the wolvens were catching up to her as well. 

Buffy's foot made contact with a monster's jaw, sending it stumbling back only a few feet. "What are you doing here?" she didn't have to shout over the howling winds or thunder on the trail between the school and the lodge because of the shelter provided by the trail's canopy of trees. 

"I came to see your big opening." Angel and Buffy glanced at each other for a moment, and Angel abandoned his monster to retrieve Buffy's ax. "I know there's a better way of saying that." 

Buffy kicked his previous attacker across the jaw. "You came all this way to see a school assembly?" she asked, breaking the limb off of a nearby tree and swatting at the beast between her and Angel. She sighed, tossing the branch onto the ground as she watched the monster she'd been fighting make a speedy getaway into the woods. 

**"Can we discuss this later!?"** Angel yelled, being yanked off the ground as the wolven reared back. He used the height to kick one of the other creatures over onto another, sending them back. Buffy plowed her monster back and got a hold of Angel, their strength combined finally pulling the ax free. The wolven howled in pain and backed away. 

Buffy took the ax from him and gave one of the things a good slice across its eyes, sending it into an enthusiastic retreat as well. "Fine, we won't talk about it. I mean, I kinda think you're too old for the cryptic-secret-baby act but if you don't wanna talk about it, we won't talk about it." 

"**You're talking about it.**" Angel threw a left hook at one of them, then a killer, Batman-worthy uppercut that sent it flipping back -- it would've been more impressive if the monster hadn't landed on it's feet to advance again. Angel stood for a moment, flinching a bit. "Come on." he grabbed Buffy's shoulder arm and pulled her after him, breaking his grip only when they were both in a dead run for a fork in the trail. 

Angel turned down the left path and took off toward the lodge and Buffy sprinted after him. The weather had turned fierce, now. "What are you doing out here, anyway!?" Angel called back, trying to be heard over the crashing thunder. 

"Andrew's at the lodge!" Buffy shouted. 

"Who!?" 

"Andrew -- you don't know him!" 

"Is he another **boyfriend**!?" 

"Oh, I get it," Buffy grumbled to herself, "this you doing that thing where you come to see me to be a big whiner." 

INT. SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - NIGHT 

Back at the Library: Willow shifted in her seat at the computer, searching the results page for anything about the wolf-like monsters. 

"Well, this is just getting pointless," she groaned to herself. "I keep turning up stuff we've seen before, like hellhounds and werewolves." 

"Thing-thinger," Faith reiterated, turning the watcher's diary she was reading sideways and letting the page unfold. "_Nice_...." 

"Perhaps you should be searching for local events," Giles suggested, moving on to another book. "They probably have a history of this sort of thing." 

"Think our sleepy, little burg has some secrets?" Willow asked. "What do they call the local town?" 

"Meadowbrook," he answered thoughtlessly. "Predominately Christian, white bread, xenophobic-." 

"I'll be sure to put that in my search," she added sardonically. "Let's see, Meadowbrook...oh. They've got a pretty colorful history, here. Abductions,...disappearances... and a butt-load of tourist sightings. And, hey, civic pride. No confirmed deaths, though." 

"Well, that a mercy." 

"Not even. I'm searching the news archives for murders and maulings, but none -- **ever**. Just strokes, heart attacks, run-aways, teen drug overdoses, and accidents." 

"Does sound rather dodgy." 

"The dodgiest! Whatever's going on, the local government's gotta be in on it." 

Giles looked through a pile of diaries then handed a few back to Rona, who sat with her friends at the edge of the pentagon. "See if you can find any accounts in those," he asked them. 

Rona handed out some of them and buckled down to read. The other two noticed some of the slayers around them having panic attacks. "You'd think they didn't know they had super powers," Rona mumbled with disdain. "My name's Rona, by the way." 

"I'm Grace," said the younger girl. 

"Reagan," the skatery girl said. "I've been watching these kids all day. Most of 'em ready to piss themselves. Strength or no strength, their gonna get clobbered, like, El Kabong style." 

"Welcome to the jungle," Rona snorted to herself, returning to her book. "Just so long as none of 'em bleed on me, I could care less." 

On the other side of the campus, Angel and Buffy reached the lodge and raced in. They shut the reinforced double doors in time to hear the wolvens slam against them, growling. They left ugly dents in the metal. "...Andrew?" Buffy called out uncertainly. "Andrew!?" She looked around the dingy, old lodge that had acted as an activity center in the Summerland's sleep-away camp days. It was a rather large, out of date room filled with long tables and benches, the windows boarded up. 

There was a plain, wooden doorway at the other end of the room. One of the wolvens burst through it, getting caught in the doorframe at its shoulders. It pushed through the drywall until it was standing in the room, wearing the frame like a collar. Angel and Buffy went to another small door and ran out. The wolven followed, leaving a wake of thrashed furniture. Already wearing the frame of the other door, the wolven couldn't push through. It backed away, trying furiously to shake the frame. 

"Andrew's still in there," Buffy panted, as she and Angel circled the lodge. 

"Doesn't seem like it." Angel said, his voice drowned out by the wind. 

"What!?" Buffy shouted. 

"I don't think anybody's in there!" 

"We need to go back in for a better look!" 

"Okay!" Sneaking around the back, they found a back exit and crept inside, surprised the other monsters hadn't followed them. 

"Those things can be stealthy when the want to," Buffy said quietly. "Andrew? If you're in here, you need to tell us.... God, I'm actually afraid to yell. Can't you use your spidey senses to find out if he's in here?" 

"If he is, he's hidden pretty good," Angel said, "'cause I'm only gettin' one human from the room. I could be wrong, though. I still can't get the mangy fur smell out of my sinuses. Is some one playing 'Hungry Like the Wolf'?" 

"...That's funny." 

"Well, yeah, when ya think about it. A little off-color maybe, but-." 

"Not the song. Andrew was broadcasting from this building during the attack." 

Angel couldn't help but split into a silly grin. "Hey, wouldn't it be kinda funny if those things attacked when he put it on-." 

"It's **not** the song, Jug head, drop it." 

Angel fidgeted self-consciously. "Yes, _ma'am_. God, if I'd have known this was gonna be the thanks I'd get for setting you guys up, I wouldn't have bothered. Is a little respect and gratitude too much to ask for these days?" 

"That's a guy for ya," Buffy muttered to herself as she walked along the wall. "They buy ya one little university, and they think they own you." 

"You always do that. You always compare me to the other guys you've been with." 

"It was a quip -- I'm quipping. You're the only man I've ever gotten a school from." 

"Okay,... sorry." 

"But now that we're fighting, why did you have to come back here? And don't say for the assembly, because we both know that's bull." 

"Excuse me? Why is me wanting to see your speech bull?" 

"If it was a one time thing, you wouldn't have pushed for that Necco-Waffered glass." 

"Necro-tempered, and I just thought, since I'm funding the thing myself. Which you have yet to thank me for-." 

"You did it because you couldn't help yourself," she said. The two of them were arguing so vehemently that neither noticed the wolven crouched in the corner behind them, still wearing the doorframe. Buffy continued the fight under her breath: "You wanted to swoop in and save me, so I'd be all melty and wouldn't call you on it when you're being a big, creepy guy. Faith told me about your evil ad agency. What's the deal with having them buy us prime real estate in Satan's wild life preserve?" 

"Do you really think I'm creepy?" Angel asked with a pitiful voice, his brow raised as he suddenly looking ever so slightly mussed by the comment. 

Buffy sighed and shook her head, tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ear, "No, well...maybe if I didn't know you really well? No, you're not creepy." 

"Look, if it's the locale that's making you moody, I can always have the slayers relocated. Go upscale. And it's an evil **law firm**, you're so smart." 

The wolven in the corner crept up behind them. 

"Go ahead, throw money at the problem," Buffy snipped. "That's what you do best...." 

"When do I ever throw money and anything!? I mean, until very recently-." Angel's eyes darted around the room when he heard the click of a claw on the wooden floor. "Did you hear that?" They turned in time to see the wolven take a swipe at them, sending them crashing into the tables on top of each other. Angel threw Buffy a timid look. 

Buffy winced and mumbled Andrew's name under her breath before casting a mournful side glance at Angel, "On three, make a break for the timber...." 

Angel nodded and the two silently counted down the numbers. On 'three' both circled the room back over to the broken door and ran out together, tearing off toward woods. 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - NIGHT 

Robin peered out the picture windows. "It looks like they're not window-shopping anymore," he noted. "When demons disappear like that, it usually means they're hiding, or they found something better to chase after." 

"This shouldn't be taking so long," Xander said to Willow. He paced around behind her chair. "I can't believe she made us stay here. This Manudo-Secludo act is getting really tired." 

"She's just trying to keep us safe," Willow recited, as though they'd gone over it a million times. "Buffy depends on us to take care of things here so she can fight evil without worrying about us or any of the girls." 

"Hey, these 'girls' are **sla-yers**. They can take care of themselves." Xander gestured back to the SITs to punctuate his point, only to show Willow a blonde girl with braces, who was crying as she attempted to pull her pigtail out of her jacket zipper. Willow tried to suppress a chuckle. 

"Like I was saying," Xander went on, "since when are we automatically the ones to watch these kids? Buffy doesn't teach a single class, the rest of us are doubled up, and now she just expects us to take the home front. We're the Scooby gang, Will, not the Babysitters Club." 

Willow went back to her monitor with a sheepish expression. "...I _liked_ the Babysitters Club," she mumbled. "Look, you don't have to help us take care of these girls, but getting all worked up and stomping out for a booty-kicking and possibly early grave isn't useful to anyone." She put her hand up. "So, simmer." 

"Will-." 

"When the hand goes up, the mouth goes shut." 

Xander shook his head and started sulking away toward the far end of the pentagon. "She paid _way_ too much attention in kindergarten." He settled down on one of steps and tried to feign brooding. 

Kennedy -- who had been griping with Rona -- noticed the little drama and crept over to Xander's end of the seating area and sat next to him. "Did you get a simmer, too?" she asked. "We've been fighting so much lately, and at first I just thought it was the pressure, but she's turned into such a fascist, I'm starting to think Buffy rubbed off on Willow...." She frowned a moment. "Starting to also wonder where that saying comes from." 

"Can you just save the self-righteous, dissention riff for someone who can actually stand you?" Xander sighed. 

"Sure. And besides, you're the one in charge of the inappropriate humor nuance. Look, what it comes down to is that you're just as sick of having to fall in line as I am. Tattle if you want, but I'm going out to help." She got back to her feet and started for the front exit, casually taking a sword from the cabinet on her way. 

Xander hesitated for a moment, then caught up with her, grabbing her arm. "Wait a sec," he whispered. 

"What? I said I was going. You wanna try and stop me?" 

"No,... I wanna come with you." He took a cautious look back. Everyone was busy and turned away. Only a few SITs were looking, but the didn't question anything. 

While Xander and Kennedy slipped out the door, Giles sat at a workstation, calmly going through one of his newer volumes. Faith sat beside him with one foot up on a nearby chair, looking at Giles with quiet interest. Every so often his eyes would wander back to her, and that went on until he couldn't ignore her any longer. 

"Are you watching me?" Giles asked. 

"Yep," Faith answered simply. 

"Is there any reason in particular why?" 

"Maybe I'm givin' you a douse of your own medicine, watcher-boy." 

He turned to her with a good-natured smile. "I am alright, you realize. It was just a tranquillizer. That's happened before, actually." 

"Wow. You just get tore up, doncha?" 

"Assuming your choice of vernacular is referring to collateral damage, then yes, I get tore up." 

"See that? Little words get it done, Rupes." 

It took a moment for Giles to absorb her meaning. "Oh, uh, _yes_," he agreed. "They do at that. One of the things I've always admired about you is ability to meet your fellow man on a level plain. It won you a lot of friends in the onset, if I recall." 

"Yeah, Remember when. Everyone was all for hangin' out and hearin' stories when it was the fun, new thing, but when it counted, everybody turned on me. Ya know, everybody,...except you." 

"Well, there was a lot of emotional entanglement. Willow from your encounter with Xander, and Buffy...from the beginning, to be honest. Being a slayer, and a feminist with a sort of, um, _ribald_ mystic, she found your presence in the field and social group as an encroachment on her niche." 

Faith froze for a moment, slightly startled. "I grabbed her boob once, but I didn't think anybody saw us." She caught Giles look of alienation and grimaced. "What's a niche?" 

"Sorry. What I meant was, Buffy felt as though she identified with you in particular, and held you to her personal standard. In you, she saw all the character flaws of her own self that caused her misery the year before -- impulsiveness; sensuality; a tendency to avoid your emotions and become aggressive. She projected her shadow self on to you, never realizing how many assets she truly had over you: a loving mother; a beautiful home; loyal friends; healthy relationships, wealth. She didn't trust you enough to share any of her inner turmoil, but expected you to be straightforward with her at a time when you felt you had nowhere to turn." 

"You been thinking a lot about this?" 

"I had to write a dissertation for the diaries," he admitted sheepishly. "...A small one." 

"Yeah, well, I'm glad that somebody understands it. You could've been like everybody else, but you never changed your story, never ganged-up on me.... So, thanks." 

"You're quite welcome." 

Faith rubbed her hands together anxiously. "Can I get you somethin', are ya hungry? I bet I could make it to the teacher's lounge 'n' back." 

"Don't trouble yourself," Giles said with a shrug. 

"Come on, you gotta let me go do somethin', I'm goin' batcrap in here!" 

"Well,...there is a Cup-of-Noodles and a Microwave in my office." 

Faith beamed eagerly. "You get a Microwave? Wicked 'A'." 

Giles smirked, arching a brow. "Well, I am the librarian." 

"So, you want me to encroach you up some soup?" 

"I'd like that very much." 

"'Kay, be right back...." She got up and strutted over to the adjacent office door. Robin noticed her leaving and followed her, and Giles went over to the weapons cabinet, looking through an old medicine bag. Just missing the shadows of Kennedy and Xander through the door window, Faith slipped into Giles' office and, taking a minute to be impressed with the kitchenette -- "Sweet ass!" -- got the noodle soup, and shut it in the little black Microwave, trying to guess the time and temperature, rather than check the package. Robin came in, lurking behind her. 

"Maybe I should tell you how this works," he started. 

"Nah, Angel showed me. It's power level, time, start." She pushed the right buttons in succession and started the Microwave. 

"No, I -- I mean the whole relationship thing. It's about trust. For me to trust you, you have to trust me, in order for us to have-." 

"Trust? Look, I gotta get this soup to Giles. He's all hungry and bitchin' for food, and whatever." 

"I think he can wait a minute-." Robin was cut off by the sound of a pea whistle, coming from the library. 

"See? I don't got time to twist a nipple with you about trust games and whatever else gets you off." 

"But you know I'd catch you if you fell." 

"Can we not go there? I'm kinda busy." 

"Watching noodles is more important than talking about us?" 

"Well, I haven't seen this one, yet. Shrimp flavored. Don't know what's gonna happen. You, on the other hand, I've seen. You get all cute 'n' kissy, and, _swoon_, I give you whatever you want." 

"Can I get that in writing?" he asked playfully and stepped up to her. 

"What am I, J.K. Rowling?" she joked, groping her hands over his chest and shoulders. She gave him a smile and leaned in for a kiss, but they were stopped by another insistent whistle. Faith groaned in frustration. "He's got the radar, man, I swear t'God." She turned back to the Microwave and popped the door open, then carefully took out the cup of soup. "Walk me back?" she asked in a flirty tone. 

"To play it safe. Those wolf things might want some of Rupert's noodle soup." 

"And if he doesn't get fed, I'll have to hear that damned whistle whenever we start gettin' down." Faith hissed as she pulled a clear blue plastic spoon from a box on the kitchenette's grey marble counter. The couple exchanged looks and headed cautiously back to the library to see Giles sitting back in his chair with a new, turquoise whistle. 

"I've found another one," Giles told them flatly. "Shiny, lovely color. Aqua, I think." 

Further down the hallways, Xander and Kennedy skulked around school. They heard echoes of banging somewhere in the building and Kennedy raised her sword. 

"I'm starting to wonder if this was such a good idea," said Kennedy. 

INT. SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - NIGHT 

"_Now_?" Xander yelped at her. "We all get this way, and you're thinking it through _now_? I thought lesbians were supposed to be really smart." 

"Remind me to kick your ass if we live through this." 

"Little chance of that. When Willow finds our mangled corpses lying stretched out to dry on the roof like unusually ugly, homemade fruit-roll'em-ups, she'll kill us." 

"One -- ew, and two -- she can't kill us if we're corpses." 

Xander smiled glibly. "You've never seen Willow mad then." 

"I think I've seen enough of it." 

"So I'm guessin' this wasn't the search and rescue mission I signed on for." 

"Really? Enlighten me." 

"Well...I think you're having some kinda cat-fighty rebellion with Will, and all your dramatic, bitchy, rich-girl faculties tell you this is the way to get even." 

"Fine," said Kennedy, "I'll kick your ass, _then_ we'll live through this. So where do we go now?" 

"You're asking me? I thought **I** was feet-first guy and **you** were the one with the strategy!" There was a rumbling clatter echoing indistinctively through the building and Xander turned from her to search for the source of the noise. 

"I've got a strategy for you. Scatter." 

"Scatter?" He spun around to see Kennedy gone and heard her footfall down the hall. "Kennedy! _Leave the sword_!" He took off after her, turning two lefts down an un-forking hallway. He ended up at an intersection of hallways that split three ways, no clue where she'd gone to. "Okay...I'm getting Will." 

In another part of the school, Kennedy continued to follow the noise with a tentative expression, sensing the action might be coming from outside. She pushed through a door and stole around, eyes searching through the dark. As she turned a corner, the light from the door window sharply faded, the only remaining light coming from the random flashes of the electrical storm. She stepped carefully over the cold, dewy crabgrass, wincing as it crunched. As she took a few paces along the wall, she felt her foot crunch on something different. The air was suddenly muggy and stale on her face. 

"Ohhhh, crap," she whispered to herself, a girlish, wavering quality in her voice. She picked her foot up carefully and stepped back, but felt something cold and wet between her shoulder blades. Quickly as she could, Kennedy swung the sword as she turned, hitting something solid as stone. It roared and tossed her away from the wall, clawing her arm. She scrambled to her feet and made for the other side of the school where she'd last seen an entrance. Turning the corner, she got her shoulder bitten down on deeply, the wolven attempting to put a front leg around her. She let out a yell and sliced the wolven's face with her sword -- it yowled and released her. 

Her face was pinched with pain as she stumbled quickly toward the nearest exit, but was pounced on from behind by the wolven that was dogging her. It started mauling her, and was joined in it by two others, but the one that went in for the kill stopped. Its ears pricked and it twisted it's head around, like a dog being called in the park, to look at the source of a inaudible noise. The other wolvens looked in the same direction for a moment then all started bounding toward it, leaving Kennedy badly bloodied and barely conscious. The wolvens were congregating in the woods, where Buffy and Angel had fled, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds. They were taking the wolvens one at a time, kicking off from the trees, climbing them for leverage, and running the monsters into them, but it wasn't long before they were too far out-numbered. Cutting their losses, they headed out for the main trail, where they were coming upon a massive, blue-eyed wolven, right in their path. 

"You can probably take it with a flying kick!" Angel advised. 

"Are you telling me how to slay!?" Buffy yelled back as they charged toward it. "Or did something happen to your inner monologue!?" 

"My what!?" 

"**Inner monologue!!!**" 

"**Fine!** What do you _usually_ do with a monster that big!? 

"Sleep with him!!!" 

"What!? ...HEY!!!" Buffy built up momentum running, jumped, and landed both feet square on the wolven's chest. When she fell to the ground in traction, looking as though she were silently screaming, the wolven was seemingly unaffected. It began to growl. Buffy looked up at the towering beast with a diffident expression, crawling back from it. 

"Good doggy," she cooed, "nice doggy?" It plunged it's face down, nose to nose with Buffy, and roared in her face, giving her a good look at it's tonsils. "Okay, **big** doggy!" She swung her leg up and gave the beast a good drop kick to the jaw, letting out a little grunt of exertion. She rolled backward until she was on her feet again, and she and Angel made a b-line for the school. "Thanks for the help, Conan!" 

"I was building my chi!" 

"You're a vampire, you don't have chi!!!" 

"Chi is the vital force believed to be inherent in all things! I exist, therefore, Taoism applies!" 

"Fine, you get chi! Happy!?" 

"Oh, thrilled! Thank you so much for allowing me to exist!" 

"Any time!" 

"And it's an evil law firm, you're so smart!" 

"What!?" 

"Wolfram & Hart! Law firm!!!" 

"Oh, sorry! Got you confused with Derwood!" 

"Darren! And Mac Mann & Tate wasn't evil, it was just corrupt!" 

"Oh, _whatever_!" They put some distance between them and the wolvens and circled around the building to the library as a clap of thunder sounded, followed by an instant downpour. On the way, Angel stopped dead, looking around in the dark. 

"Wait, I smell blood! Somebody's hurt here!" Buffy ran back to him, pushing wet hair out of her face. 

"Is it a little guy!? Maybe Andrew tried to get back!" 

"No, it's a girl!" He picked a body up from the grass and bought it with them as they ran. 

INT. SUMMERLAND SCHOOL LIBRARY - NIGHT 

Back at the library, Xander sat at one of the tables, looking at his hands. 

"Do you know how tremendously stupid that was?" Willow asked as she sat staring at him, furious. 

"I'm aware of the stupid," he agreed quietly. "But she would've gone without me, anyway. She was pretty ticked-." 

Faith's calling cut him off. "Harris!" she shouted, waving Xander over to the book cage. 

"I have to go work on something with Giles, anyway," Willow said. 

The two friends pushed out from the computer tables and went their separate ways -- Xander to Faith, and Willow to the workstation where Giles was going through one of his volumes and setting up something magickal. Among many other items he's assembled, there was a circle of twelve painted stones on a round, wooden plate, and one decorated with an Egyptian eye glyph sitting beside a burner, atop which was a large beaker, filled with simmering silvery liquid. 

"So," Willow began to Giles, "anything new on the wolf men-. Women-. Wolf persons?" 

"Nothing on them," Giles admitted, sipping his soup, "but I've been simultaneously researching sanctuary spells, and I think I've found a genetically specific representation of a Pictish banishment wall. It's a spirit shield against nondescript intruders, and if we can get a specimen from the demon, we can remove it from the property." 

He gestured to Xander, who stood in front of the book cage with Faith. Xander was taunting the captive beast again. "The Wolven will come for you with his razor," he said sarcastically, throwing in a maniacal laugh. "Yeah, that's right, Droopy, what are ya gonna do about it? Huh? Bring it!" The monster leapt at Xander, trying to kill him through the cage. 

Faith swept in with a pocket knife, reached though the book-return slot, and cut off a tuft of fur from it's front leg. She took a step back from the cage with Xander, who looked a little shaken. "You're a stud," she told him, in an overly patronizing tone. She brought the fur over to the workstation and held it over the beaker, throwing Giles a questioning look. He nodded reassuring and she dropped it in the liquid, making the bursting surface spark for a moment. 

"Very good, Faith," Giles said distantly, turning back toward Willow. "If the spell goes as planned, then in a moment or two, these..._things_, will be thrown bodily off the premises." 

Willow's face lifted. "We can really do that? That's perfect!" 

"No, not entirely. On a greater scale, this is a very dangerous spell, and as so, not very commonly used since the sixth century. In order to widen the wall, we'd have to stretch it outward, like an elastic band. It could only take the pressure from a small number of threats and would be libel to break or snap back on us at any time, which -- according to these accounts of Connacht -- is a rather gruesome picture." He stepped next to her, showing her a two pages-long engraving of a decimated village, strewn with maimed bodies. 

"Why would they draw that?" she asked herself, clearly nauseated. 

Just then, a dripping wet, battle-trashed Buffy broke though the picture window and landed crouching on the floor beside the book cage, scaring the hell out of everyone. She straightened up, shaking the glass fragments out of the front of her shirt with a contorted look of pain on her face. "_Sorry,_" she grunted. "They blocked the exits.... The next time I decide to crash through a window, I'm doing it in one of those metal, Xena bras." Buffy's friends looked quizzically back at her and she met their gazes sadly. "We didn't find Andrew," she told them. 

As she did, Angel came charging up to the library window from outside, carrying Kennedy. He leapt at the window, but smacked into an invisible barrier and fell back. 

"Angel?" Dawn asked critically. "What are you doing out there?" 

"Oh!" Willow said to Giles. "He's 'overtly evil'. We might wanna get on that." 

"Ha, he's evil again!" Xander yelled, pointing vindictively at Angel. "I knew it -- nobody sane cares that much about tempered glass!" 

"I'm not evil!" Angel growled, getting to his feet with Kennedy. "And, hey, not crazy!" 

"Nice try," Xander snapped, "I can see it in your eyes and your evil drool!" 

"I'm not drooling!" 

Willow spotted Kennedy from inside. "Oh, God!" she gasped. "What happened, is she alive?" 

"It's raining outside," Angel continued retroactively, "I don't droll." 

"Excuse me!?" Willow shouted at Angel. "Concerned girlfriend!" 

"Oh, she is," Angel answered. "But she's lost a lotta blood-. Girlfriend?" 

Robin stepped through the shattered glass and Angel handed Kennedy off to him behind the barrier. "I'll take care of her," Robin told Willow. 

"Look, there's something up with those things," Angel told them. "I can't get heart or heartbeat off any of 'em. If it wasn't for the authentic, wet-dog smell, I'd think they weren't alive. Did you have to break my windows?" he asked Buffy. "I mean, I go to all the trouble of setting you guys up, and this is my 'thank you'?" 

"That's enough," Willow began uneasily, following Robin with her eyes as he laid Kennedy on a table. "We need to get Angel in. There's a spell we're working on, but we'll have to take the ring of protection down-." 

Without warning, Angel was slammed headfirst into the wall beside the windows. He fell back into the shadows, making visible the larger wolven that had been blocking the trail outside. It threw itself repeatedly against the barrier, trying to push its way through with an unnatural amount of strength. Finally, the barrier broke, and the wolven leapt into the room, sending everyone to the other side of it. Robin gathered Kennedy up again and moved her as far from the beast as he could. The rest of the faculty moved in front to shield the young slayers. 

"If anybody has a suggestion," said Buffy to her friends, "don't be shy." 

The wolven advanced on them slowly, sniffing the air. It shook its rain-soaked coat out, splattering everyone, and seemed to start scanning the crowd, until the monster in the book cage let out a small growl. The larger wolven left the crowd of humans and leapt on the book cage, beating through the cage door with one paw, warping the metal and breaking easily through the lock. A few of the pack outside made whimpering noises, and the two wolvens inside went out to meet them. They sniffed at each other and grunted. One of them poked curiously at Angel's unconscious body with its paw, wagging its tail and growling playfully. 

"What are they doing," Robin said to himself. 

"I dunno," Dawn said, leaning over to get a better look, "but when the raptors in Jurassic Park III acted like that, they were planning something." 

"You think they're talking?" Buffy asked fearfully. "Okay, maxi-wig. Will, whatever you guys are working on, this would be the time." 

"It's very dangerous," Giles warned her, as the wolvens eyed them through the window. "There could be dire consequences-." 

"Do it, do it, do it!" Buffy whispered, panicked. 

Giles snorted in dissention, muttering all manner of curse words as he returned to the table and held the eye rune over the circle. He read aloud from the "Liber Magorum": 

"Ones savage," he recited quickly as another wolven crept in, "ones of the fur and flesh, we forge against thee. Terrible ones, born of the fibers burned, these runes banish thee." It roared at the crowd and started walking toward Willow. Giles went on, "The Eye shall bind, till houses blind, _Spiritualis Scutum contra Titanos_!" Giles slammed the eye rune down heavily onto the center of the circle. A wave of distortion rippled out forcefully from the rune circle. For a moment an almost blinding light lighted the library and the visible distortion physically tossed the approaching monsters backward, out of the light of the room. Buffy went swiftly to the window. 

"This may be the wrong time," Xander said weakly, "but I kinda wish it was lighter out, so I could see those things go flying." Everyone gave him a searing look. "Okay, wrong time." 

"I only hope the shield holds," said Giles. "I suppose we should put a fence up." 

"I could get a crew out here tomorrow," Xander told him. "I don't know that it'll hold those things off, though." 

"Oooh," Willow piped up, "we could lay a Torques Titanorum along the fence line, that'll strengthen it. I mean, now that we got time to put a fence up. There _were_ only a dozen out there, right Buffy?" 

Buffy was outside now, kneeling over Angel in the rain. She ran her fingertips gently along side the gash on his forehead. 

EXT. SUMMERLAND GROUP CABINS - EARLY MORNING 

A few hours later, still a long way from sunrise, the last groups of slayers were filing out of the school toward their cabins, Robin passing out flashlights to them and Dawn taking careful roll of them as they left. Giles and Faith stood under an umbrella with an electric lantern, directing the girls and seeing them off in the waning storm. 

"What do you think happened t'Andy?" Faith asked, hugging herself to keep the cold out. 

"Hard to say," Giles answered, waving the slayers straight. "If he didn't leave the school, then...I doubt he survived." 

"God. What a way t'go, huh?" 

"I only wish we'd realized sooner that he wasn't with us. Unfortunate...." Giles broke off. 

Back at the lodge, there was a stirring sound and Andrew's voice quietly singing from the water-heater closet. 

"...Take one down, pass it around, no more bottles of beer on the wall.... Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer...." 

Meanwhile, Buffy and Willow walked across the lawns toward the school, hazily eyeing a parked, silver car ahead. Buffy was bandaged up under her coat. 

"I think Kennedy'll be alright," Willow said, frowning sadly. "Being a slayer, she'll heal pretty quick. I wanted to take her to the hospital, but there'd be questions about what happened. I just feel awful, though. The last time we talked, I was so mean to her. I told her to simmer." 

"I think when she's better, she'll realize it was to protect her," Buffy said, sounding exhausted. 

"But it wasn't just that. We've been fighting so much lately, I can't remember when we last talked -- ya know, without being pissy." 

"Well, there's a lotta that going around-." Buffy winced as she heard Giles' pea whistle sound and groaned. "I'm **so** gonna kill him." 

"I think I need to go help," said Willow. "Get my guilties out." 

"'Kay." 

Willow turned back and headed for the line of slayers as the last girls left the building. Buffy trudged to the muddy trail, where Angel stood in front of the school, waiting to see her before he went back to his BMW. There was now a closed, bruised up cut on his forehead. 

"You guys really outta put up a fence," Angel told her. 

"We can handle it," Buffy said. 

"...How're you feeling?" he asked after an awkward moment. 

"Green," Buffy answered, rolling her eyes in spite of herself. "It's not easy, y'know." 

"Yeah, I've been there. I just wanted to see if you needed anything. Make sure you're alright." 

"I am," she said. "Thanks...." Angel turned and started walking to his car, as Buffy went on. "For everything," she added. 

Angel turned back, shifting his arms uncomfortably. "You don't have to say that." 

"I know. I thought I should, though. Before you go. _Thank you._" 

Angel smiled weakly and started back on the long walk for his car. Buffy watched him quietly, folding her arms in front of her. 

Leaving the slayers, Dawn walked up beside her sister. "What are we looking at?" she asked Buffy. "Angel's leaving?" 

"Yeah...." 

"Oh.... Should we be quiet?" 

"Yes, this would be a quiet moment."


	3. Episode 03 Never Surprise Me

NEVER SURPRISE ME ( Episode 3 ) by Faith Bowie & Laota French - read more at next-tuesday dot org!  
TEASER

**MIDNIGHT - MEADOWBROOK GREYHOUND STATION**

A dusty navy blue bus pulled into a large, dark parking lot on the edge of Meadowbrook where the little town ended and the timber began. The lot was lit by only the light from the Greyhound station and a nearly burnt out street lamp on the corner near where the sidewalks met. It was vast and empty save a few cars that were far past their prime and an old school bus stained with pink and red graffiti, all four tires missing.

With a crush of air, the bus doors opened and the passengers began to leave one by one down the few steps, making no effort to waste time in the parking lot but instead going straight inside of the bus terminal.

Among the busy travelers, a girl in her late teens stepped off of the bus and looked around. She was blonde, slight, and pretty, with expressive features, and had the phrase "I Love You" silk-screened across the front of her novelty sweatshirt. She watched as the other passengers disappeared into the depot but didn't follow them, instead opting to step over a cement divider and into the parking lot of a nearby JC Penny's store where the Willow and Xander had made arrangements to pick her up. The girl swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear while she rummaged through the tech bag she had slung around her body, looking for a tube of lip balm.

Something behind her jostled and she slowed to a stop, looking over her shoulder at the seemingly empty cement lot. "Hello?" the girl called out apprehensively, glancing warily about herself. There wasn't an echo. She waited quietly for a few moments and then shook her head, pulled the lip balm out of her bag, popped off the little cap, and slicked it across her bottom lip.

She pressed her lips together softly and raised a sarcastic eyebrow before turning back and starting off again. She closed the lip balm tube and slipped it back into her bag, shutting the front flap and securing the Velcro closure. "Great, Kim," she said to herself, "now you're imagining things. You're just...." As if it had read her mind, the jostle turned into the click-scratch of shoes on cement, "Being...paranoid...." She picked up her pace, jogging past a few shopping carts left in the lot toward the store and headed for a payphone that was attached to the wall right outside the store windows in front of her. She reached the curb in front of the store, glancing back long enough to see a man in black clothes and a wool ski mask.

"Oh...oh my God...." Her voice squeaked with desperation, realizing the pay phone and closed store couldn't do her any good now. She made a break for it, heading in a blind run across the lot toward the open gas station across the street.

**12:07 A.M. XANDER'S PICK-UP TRUCK - STATION STREET, MEADOWBROOK**

_Playing on the car radio: "In a clearing green, where his eyes met mine. I was frozen motion. Oh! His bow was raised. Then the fleeting notion-that my life he'd save. "_

Xander sat behind the wheel of his battered truck, biting his lip in concentration as Willow, who was buckled into the passenger's seat, fumbled with a large map of Meadowbrook. She rested her feet on the aluminum baseball bat that had been strewn on the floor of the cab with a few other 'just in case' weapons. "'One of these times the light's not gonna be green, Nancy'," Xander boomed in a menacing voice, slowing the truck down enough to turn onto Station street.

"The Craft," Willow mumbled in absent-minded response, closely examining one of the map's artfully drawn streets after another. "This thing is so confusing," she griped, "...you'd think - ya know, logically - small town, small map. But _nooo_, that would hollow all the fun out of driving me crazy." She grumbled with defeat. "This thing reads like stereo instructions."

"Betelgeuse!" Xander blurted out with a wide, proud-of-himself grin.

Willow looked away from the map long enough to give Xander a patronizing glance. "That wasn't my movie quote, Xander, that was my 'Me' quote. I just can't understand this map. The roads are all twisty-turny, like the architect drew up the blue-prints with an Etch-a-Sketch. The whole town is built like a labyrinth."

Xander's brows knitted together with confusion and peered over her shoulder at the map. "Why would anyone wanna build a town like a maze?"

"Maybe they were big 'Aztecs' fans," Willow sighed with a tired frown, folding the map back up then shoving it into the overstuffed glove compartment. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples gently. "I'm probably just reading it wrong. Been kinda overworked since that whole big, scary, wolf-monster thing." 

Xander's eyes wandered over to Willow, worry lining his features. "Will, you okay?"

Willow nodded, wincing a little. "Yeah,...yeah I think so. I just need to catch some major winks is all." She looked up at Xander and smiled - weakly, but reassuringly - and looked out to the dark road ahead. Her smile quickly dissolved to a squint and then a wide eyed stare of shock and realization, "Xander, watch the road!" 

Xander turned his attention back to the street, "Oh god!" He swerved the truck quickly, rear-ending a parked car in an attempt to narrowly miss some girl who'd darted across the street in front of them. Xander looked over at Willow, shaken. "You okay?"

"Yeah.... Wow." She took in a deep breath, "Wait - that girl, is she okay?"

"What...oh god, I didn't even think,...wait here. " Xander unfastened his seatbelt quickly and pushed the truck door open with a loud, shrill creek. He leapt out of the vehicle just as a dark figure sprinted past him at full speed with a weapon, (a long, stiletto-like dagger, a "stylet") gaining fast on the girl he'd been chasing, who had just dashed into another parking lot across the street - he was going to catch her. Xander didn't bother to close the truck door; he barreled after the man, tackling him at the waist and bringing him to his knees on the rain-soaked curb; the dagger skittered away from him into the lot. Willow rushed out of the truck and after them with the baseball bat.

"Xander!" she called out, almost shrieking, to get her friends attention and tossed the bat to Xander. He looked up just in time to throw up his right hand and catch the weapon clumsily. The ski-masked man and Xander scrambled to their feet. Xander took a swing and cracked the guy in his ribs; the man took the blow hard but caught the bat, wrested it from Xander, and used it's weight to backhand him bluntly across the face, sending Xander falling back onto the pavement. The man looked around quickly, saw his stylet on the ground, dropped the bat for some reason, and retrieved his weapon before rushing after the girl, who'd flitted towards the gas station's mini mart. After swiftly making-up the gap between them, the man caught the girl by her shoulder, tore her from the mini-mart doors before she could grasp their handles, and slammed her to the ground. He paused on seeing her gasping face, then plunged his stylet down.

Willow quickly helped Xander to his feet and he raced to help the girl, stumbling as he went. Willow looked ahead just in time to see the man stabbing the young woman in the throat. Willow's eyes widened, inky black swirling in her irises, and she raised one hand up in the man's direction, calling out, "_Semoveo!_" with desperation.

Her words threw the man off of the girl and rolling, a good six yards across the ground; he smashed against a parked car and set off it's noisy car-alarm, only to pop up to his feet acrobatically and make his escape across the road, into the sparse woods on the other side of it.

Xander started to chase after him, but stopped when he heard Willow's horrified gasp from behind him. "Willow, what is it? Is she okay?" Xander's tone was soft as he trotted back to where Willow had just dropped to her knees, kneeling over the girl.

She shook her head, her face pale with mortification as she craned her neck up to look wide and glassy-eyed at Xander, the white, neon light baring down on her. "We're too late."

SCENE ONE

SUMMERLAND ACADAMEY - NIGHT

Buffy, Giles, Willow, and Xander were sitting in the school library, where the same dim, golden light as always warmed the room. Buffy and Willow sat on the carpeted steps of the pentagon, drinking coffee from little Styrofoam cups, while Giles sat at one of the work stations, pouring over a large stack of the school's open mail. Xander sat nearby him, looking out of the new French Door -- it was a replacement for the formerly-smashed picture window. Xander had a chair under his now-bandaged right foot and was fiddling with a crook-handled cane; his cheek was blotted by a dark, purple bruise. He seemed incredibly depressed. "There was just so much carnage," he thought aloud. "Why do things like this have to happen all the time?"

"It just seems pointless," Willow said, stewing in her anger. "I can't understand -- what makes someone do something like that?"

"It's probably not a good idea to concentrate on _why_," Buffy told her, "some people are just demented."

"It's just common sense! What makes a grown man drop a French Door on his foot?"

"Technically," Xander interjected, "it was the frame, and I didn't _'drop it on my foot,'_ I cushioned the blow - protected it from the ground as it fell. But, looking at the finished product, you can see it was worth the blood shed."

"What blood?" Buffy snipped. "You have a sprained toe, and **only** because you butted in with real construction guys-."

"Hey, you weren't there when the crap hit the fan -- can I tell _my_ side of the story?"

"_No_," Giles drawled with quiet annoyance. "As much as we'd all love to place priority on your most recent maladies, Xander, there is still the matter of the murder."

"Her name was Kim," Willow said gloomily, rotating the cup in her hand.

"She was the slayer you guys were supposed to pick up?" asked Buffy.

"I wish we coulda gotten there earlier, we just -- I guess I let myself get optimistic; never accounted for stabbings in Meadowbrook. Other than the Wolven guys, it's been so quiet here."

"I think we all relaxed a little," Buffy went on, taking in the steam from her coffee. "I haven't seen one vampire since we got here. Well, besides Angel.... So the guy stabbed her?"

"Big-time," Xander chimed in again. "He was sportin' some long, needley dagger thing, definitely not army issue. And style-wise, we can rule out The Bringers."

Giles looked up from a dense letter, his interest ignited. "A long dagger?" he asked. "Did it have a triangular blade?"

Xander shrugged irritably. "Coulda been."

"It was more of a slender, tapering blade," Willow replied. "Like Xander said, 'needley'." Giles quietly put down his letter, got up from the work station, and walked off to his office, disappearing for a moment. He returned, unsheathing a gold-plated stylet from a gilded scabbard. The others looked up at him with a mixture of amazement and suspicion . "That's the thing!" Willow blurted. "The needley thing!"

Xander arched a sarcastic brow. "Somethin' you wanna fess up to Giles?" he asked.

Oh, please," Giles muttered exasperatedly, placing the dagger on his table. "This..._'needly thing,'_ as you call it, is a stylet. An ancient weapon of the aristocracy."

"Why would the Aristo-Cats wanna kill a slayer?" Buffy asked, scrunching her nose up in befuddlement. Giles and Willow winced, and Buffy -- picking up on their vicarious embarrassment -- backpedaled. "I was kidding," she said dismissively, though not very convincingly.

"I don't think we have to worry about this guy being an aristocrat," Willow said, trying to push the conversation forward. "He was the ski-mask variety. So why wouldn't this guy opt for more modern fire-power?"

Buffy thought a moment. "Giles, how was this stylish dealy used?" she asked him.

Giles sat back down to his letters. "The, um, _'stylet'_...was used for close-quarters attack, discreet assassination. You would have to get within a close, alarmingly vulnerable distance to strike." His eyes scanned the pages of his letter. "Rather capricious, if you ask me. What kind of an idiot would bother chasing someone down with a stylet?"

"Maybe an idiot that was in it for the chase?" Buffy offered. "Think I should poke around the crime scene, try to figure out how this guy ticks?" She got to her feet spryly, climbed out of the pentagon, and headed for the door, taking her fur-lined, red coated-cotton trench off the front desk.

"You should take Faith with you," Giles said quietly, without looking up from his letter.

That stopped Buffy in her tracks. "I...don't know if that's such a good idea," she said, fidgeting a bit as she turn around. "I mean, Faith's out with Robin tonight, the whole thing'd be _really_ awkward. And what would Faith do at the scene, anyway? Give insights into the criminal mind?"

At that, Giles and Willow gave Buffy extremely cross looks, both taking complete offense. "Buffy," Giles said, trying and failing to repress his displeasure and disappointment, "this killer -- whoever or whatever he may be -- has over-powered a slayer-."

"Okay," she relented, cutting him off, "I get it -- better safe than sorry. I'll go out there right now and deliver the news in person." She turned and made her way out, sighing playfully as she went. "I have to do _everything_ myself...."

"Willow," Giles said absentmindedly as he read on. "Perhaps you should phone any forthcoming slayers, warn them against possible danger? There's a phone in the lounge."

"I'm on it," Willow answered, drudging herself up. "But I **know** you have a phone in your office."

"...That's for personal use," Giles said defensively. "Well, moving on, off y'go, then." Willow rolled her eyes and went out of the room quietly as Giles back. "And Xander?" he continued.

"Crap," Xander grumbled to himself.

"Could you see about the students? Make certain all of them are safe, inside?"

Xander's jaw dropped with an over-dramatic sense of injustice. "Hey, I'm the one-eyed sprain over here, how come Willow gets the comfy, 'phoning people' job?"

"_Take. It up. With her_," Giles said measuredly, sounding quite antagonized.

"Fine," Xander griped, gathering to his feet, leaning on his cane as he limped out. "We'll see how far that Bossy-Brit attitude takes you in the retirement home...."

Giles glared at Xander from the corner of his eye for a moment, then, feeling he'd certainly capped the night off for anger, returned to his letter. After reading for a few seconds longer, his brows knit with apprehension and foreboding, gasping gravely to himself, "Oh, dear...."

SCENE TWO

ON THE NORTH SHORE OF LAKE MILIMO - NIGHT

Robin walked beside Faith on the shore of a small, green lake nestled in the mountains near Summerland Academy. His eyes were fixed on the dirt trail in front of him, sighing, his hands pushed deep into his pockets. "I'm not saying it has to be a big deal," he told her. "I just wanted to take you out someplace nice. Do something different than we usually do."

He glanced over at Faith, who was busy making unpleasant faces. "What's wrong with what we usually do?" she asked, grimacing as she munched on a piece of chewing tobacco she'd bought, mistakenly thinking it was beef jerky. She quickly spat it out onto the lakeshore and pitched the rest of the tobacco stick into the murky water.

"...I guess, _nothing_," Robin answered, shrugging his shoulders up a bit. "Maybe I just think the 'Choco Taco' wants for romance."

Still grimacing, Faith stepped up onto the damp wooden dock and started walking it's length, Robin following dutifully. She turned her head, lifting her eyes to give Robin a slightly annoyed glare, "So we'll put a doily under it. Look, maybe I'm just not the type who gets buttery over the Barbara Cartland treatment twenty-four seven?"

Robin laughed softly and shook his head, "Okay, okay. I'm not trying to come on too strong-."

"But?"

"How'd you know there was gonna be a 'but'?" he asked with mock suspicion, arching a knowing brow.

Faith shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "'Cause there's always a 'but'."

"You're pretty amazing, Faith."

"_But_?" she sighed exhaustedly, eyes hooded.

Robin put his hands up in defense, "No, no 'but', " he assured, his voice staying soft and mellow. "You just **are**. I guess, maybe you're not used to hearing that."

Faith's brow furrowed at Robin's comment, but she let a grateful, "Thanks," slip past her lips anyway.

"Now," he continued cagily, "...back to the 'but'-. The, uh, one from before...."

Before he could finish, Dawn came jogging up along side them breathlessly. "Guys! ...You! Stop...." She stopped and braced herself, huffing and practically hyperventilating.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" Robin asked. "Did something happen?"

"Buffy," Dawn puffed, looking up at them and tossing her hair back. "Total butt-monkey...."

"Yeah, thanks for recapping the year," Faith snorted, wiping the tobacco from the corner of her mouth.

"Just a sec," Dawn went on, trying to regain her composure. Robin and Faith waited while she took a breath and pulled herself together. "Giles wanted her to tell me to tell you, that a slayer got stabbed, and snake on the crime scene. If Buffy's gonna keep delegating, we **need** to get a monorail put in, I'm so completely sick of running everywhere for her."

"Back it up," Faith said. "A slayer got stabbed?"

"Yeah, Giles thinks you and Buffy should go do some recon, gather info on the killer guy."

"Yeah." Faith nearly cut Dawn's sentence off, "Yeah, recon. I'm on it. Tell Buff I'll meet her out by the lodge in 10 minutes."

Robin stood -- silently pouting -- behind Faith, who could barely contain her relief. She took a deep breath in and turned to face Robin, curling her fingers around his wrist and trying to aviod eye-contact.

"I gotta plow," she said, fiegning sincerity, "sorry to take off mid-sentence. Slayer crap. You know how it is." She let go of Robin's wrist and started off in the general direction of the lodge. About ten steps into her retreat, she turned around, walking backwards and giving Robin her patented double point, "Later. _We_ will talk romance. Promise."

Dawn, still winded, was fanning herself with her hands girlishly, which had decidedly taken the edge off of Robin's stolid, protest-glare. SCENE THREE

MEADOWBROOK GAS STATION - NIGHT

The scene was still fresh at the gas pump as the quieted ambulance pulled into the lot. Squad cars were parked around the mini-mart, their red and blue roof light still rotating and cutting quick, silent paths through dark neighborhood. Half a dozen officers were swarming around, two of them tending to Kim's pale, depressing corpse, checking out her wounds. The police didn't seem all that official -- they weren't taping off the crime scene or outlining the victim's body.

Buffy and Faith stood out of sight in the shadows of the thin alleyway between the gas station and an antiques store that doubled as a hair salon.

Faith fidgeted impatiently, "When did we get all below the law? I say we do something. I say I go in there and -"

Buffy cut Faith off by hissing a whispered, "Shhh...and do what? Get arrested? Again? Half of California is already looking for you, Faith, do you think there's even the slightest chance that those cops won't recognize you from a wanted poster?"

"Do they still have those?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and peered back around the corner, wincing as a blue light from a squad car nearly blinded her for a split second. "Not really the point I'm trying to make. Just...be quiet, we can charge in there and assert our girl-power _after_ the cops are gone."

With a reluctant sigh, Faith nodded and both women reassumed their task, waiting and watching.

The clerk of the mini-mart, who stood out by the pumps with one of the officers, was a stocky mess of a man, with dark, thinning hair, adult-acne, and virtually no chin. The cop speaking to him was a tall, dumpy fellow, who looked and sounded an awful lot like the _Glad_ man. 

"You say you saw where the girl came from?" the officer questioned casually. 

"That I did," the clerk replied, straightening his stained Quickstop T-shirt. "She came wanderin' over from the Penny's parkin' lot, looked a bit woozy. Prob'ly on drugs." 

"Was there anyone with her?" 

The clerk cast a cautious eye around. "Nobody of consequence, if ye get my meanin', but some young people came runnin' over t'mess with the body afterward. I didn't wanna go out there, though, I think they were on drugs, too, officer...?" 

"Detective," the man corrected quickly. "Gillespie, sir." 

"Ah, yeah, Gillespie. I know yer daughters, they come in here every week with the cheerleaders on two fer one pizza night -- those are some real beautiful girls ya got there." 

"Well, I'll tell 'em you said so. You have a good night, sir." 

"You too, officer." 

Detective Gillespie turned away from the clerk and headed over to one the men examining the corpse as the ambulance drivers moved it into a black vinyl body bag. The man Gillespie went to was a short, thickset man in his forties, decked out in the full tan uniform, black sateen jacket, and a black Stetson. "Sheriff Hayward," the detective began, "it's just what you figured on." 

"Drugs?" Hayward asked in his thick, mid-western accent. 

"I owe you a _Red Dog_." 

Hayward let his eyes wander to the body below him, where one of the other officers was trying to unzip the body bag. "_Lucky!_" Hayward grunted, pulling the young man aside as the corpse was moved to a gurney. "Boy," the sheriff went on, "**what** are you doin', foolin' around with the stiff? Now, I don't know what they taught you back in San Fran-cis-co, but around here, we keep our bare hands off the evidence." 

Standing out as not only the youngest officers and the only officer on the scene without a hat, this 'Lucky' was also not nearly as suspicious as the others. He was tall, blonde, pretty-boy in his early twenties. Lean, with a Jim Carry quality about him; something like surfer boy meets Barney Fife. "I just wanted to get a look that wound," Lucky explained. "Maybe get an idea of this guy's M.O. for the day watch." 

"We're not gonna need a beat team on this one," said Hayward, shaking his head with what might've been disgust. "It's an open-and-shut. Drug related." 

"Drug related?" Lucky repeated incredulously. "How did we get to drug related?" 

"Ya know, the other fellas could use a coffee, why don't you pop in the Quickstop and bring 'em out a few?" 

"I'm getting coffee," Lucky said to himself in defeat. "And what are you gonna be doing?" 

"I'm headin' to Rayleene's Bar," Hayward said, voice trailing as he smirked convivially and turned from the lad, starting back to his car. "Gillespie owes me a _Red Dog_...." 

Lucky stood there, watching Hayward go with a frustrated and confounded expression as the other officers left to hang out by their cars, chewing the fat with one another. After a moment, Lucky worked up his inner strength and headed into the Quickstop to get coffee.

Buffy sighed, her brows knit together as she turned to look back at Faith who seemed equally cranky with the whole situation.

"So that's it?" Buffy's question sounded more like a frustrated statement. Buttoning up her jacket, she headed past Faith and began walking back down the alley the way they'd come. "They're just gonna stay there and have coffee?"

"With the body? That's twisted." Faith yawned and shrugged, both hands resting on her belt. "Sort of hits pause on the whole 'Girl Power' charge in there thing. Where you goin?" She started to follow Buffy, folding one arm and then the other behind her head to stretch them out.

"Back to the school. We're not gonna find anything with the police crawling all over the place."

Faith looked a bit surprised with Buffy's quickness to retreat, but followed after her anyway. "Okay, B...your call." 

SCENE FOUR

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY LIBRARY - NIGHT

"Look all I'm sayin' is there's a huge chance the cops are knee deep in this." Faith pulled the strap from the large, black crossbow she'd been carrying over her head to take it off as she and Buffy walked through the library doors. "I mean did you check out how fast they pinned drugs on that girl? I'm tellin' you, I've seen it happen." 

"I know it _does_ look bad," Buffy agreed halfheartedly, "but, cops?" She shrugged out of her jacket and placed it neatly on the back of her chair out of habit, "Generally just clueless get-in-the-way types. Not exactly the mystic in the pizza." 

Faith callously tossed her weapon onto a small research table, her features strained with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "So what?" she asked. "We just look the other way?" 

"I should say not," came an unfamiliar feminine voice, echoing from somewhere inside the library. This opinioned, disembodied voice was Australian and proper, but melodious and authoritative in tone. Upon hearing it, Buffy and Faith glanced around themselves, and then around the room, both finding the source of said voice at the same time. Two men and an attractive woman, all well dressed, were seated at one of the longer research tables in front of the newly patched up window. The men both stood politely as Buffy and Faith approached the table, but the woman, who sat apathetically at the table, simply touched her middle fingertip to the end of her tongue and turned a page in the thick-but-organized binder that sat in front of her. 

This woman was an exotic extreme of beauty -- gracefully lean, with golden skin, and vivid blue eyes. Her long, silky blonde hair was pulled away from her face by the pair of effet, black glasses that rested atop her head. She was clad in Sabrina-healed, black leather ankle boots and the tailored layers of a stylish, three-piece, black-pinstriped suit; her chrome jewelry shone softly on the golden light of the library; her nails were artfully French-tipped. Somehow, the sum of all these attractive attributes combined with her attitude made it glaringly obvious that she was in possession of an extremely irritating personality. "Buffy and Faith, I infer," she drawled, without looking up from her reading material. "My, my, don't we have stories? Breech of secret identities, vandalism, murder, resisting arrest by The Council, resisting Chosen Destiny." She shook her head disapprovingly. "This doesn't do at all."

Buffy and Faith both proceeded forward, glancing suspiciously at one another every few moments. Buffy's questioning gaze found Giles, who stood helplessly by the end of the research table, cleaning his spotless glasses with a silk handkerchief. He was flanked by Willow and Xander. Buffy raised her brow pointedly as Giles regarded her, only to be disheartened by his vanquished expression. "Are they...?" she started to ask under her breath.

Faith folded her arms in front of her defensively, walking in sync with Buffy's steps towards the new menaces in front of her."_Watchers_," she hissed in quiet disgust, almost spitting her words. 

Buffy anxiously tried and failed to smile through her confusion, as though hoping for a simple, acceptable explanation. "What's....going on?" she asked shakily. She quickly stepped out, breaking her stride with Faith and giving each of the strangers around her a mistrustful, accusatory glare, one that eventually landed on Giles. 

Giles averted his eyes from Buffy's glare and continued to clean his already spotless glasses. "Buffy, Faith-." he began, gesturing to each stranger introduction-style. "Mirella Bartlet, Marcus Jones, and Onslow Barrie. They claim they are from...the Council."

Faith shook her head, letting herself fall back behind Buffy. "One page ahead of ya, G." 

Buffy seethed but didn't seem surprised, as though she'd been expecting complications from some sort of authority some time now. "Watchers," she said to herself, matching Faith's animosity.

"_They say_," Faith snorted doubtfully as she finally reached the table, broadening her shoulders and letting her head rest deep into her neck. "The Council's toast, yo, like 'Mad Bomber What Bomb At Midnight' - toast." 

The one called Marcus Jones took his seat casually. "Would you care to place a wager on that, Missy?" he piped up with a London-accented chuckle. Marcus was tall and handsome with broad shoulders and dirty blonde hair that was over-Jujed and looked like it came straight from the **_Queer Eye_** wardrobe department. He was young, not quite thirty, and decked out in a very expensive looking suit with a sort of macho yet pixie-like humor about him. He grinned broadly at the women in front of him, his hand finding the keys in his pocket and jingling them obnoxiously.

One watcher remained standing out of consideration for the slayers. This was the man referred to as Onslow Barrie. "Ms. Summers," he whispered in an awe-filled Welsh brogue, nodding in respect with a nervous, but star struck, smile. He was fairly symmetrical, well-groomed, brunette, and very humane as far as looks went -- not unattractive -- but pale and awkwardly slight, lending him a withered aspect, like a neglected house plant. While his clothing was new and smart, it was oddly average in style and color. The Proper Watcher look was topped off by a pair of dark-framed glasses that were perched annoyingly at the tip of his nose. He held his left hand out to shake Buffy's, his right hand firmly curled round the handle of something that sat on the chair behind him. Buffy just stared at Onslow's hand and so he retracted it with a jittery chuckle. "I've read much about you, Ms. Summers, it _truely_ is an honour to finally meet you."

Buffy didn't look amused, and Onslow lifted a shabby, brown, 1930's-esc suitcase off of his chair and took his seat, placing the case on his lap and hugging it meekly. 

Faith narrowed her eyes, her hands finding the back pockets of her jeans, wedging their way into them, as she watched Buffy approach what seemed to be all that remained of the council. Faith opened her mouth to speak but Buffy got to the question first, folding her arms defiantly in front of her. "Sorry. Guess you have me at an advantage, since you know all about me and I don't have the slightest idea who you are. Does anybody wanna fill me in?" 

"Us," Faith corrected, giving Buffy an odd sideways glance. "Fill _us_ in." 

Buffy paid no attention to Faith. "Giles," she went on, "we have _real_ problems right now, I don't think any of us need to baby sit Council survivors on top of everything else."

"Well, Miss Summers," Onslow spoke up quietly, both hands clutching the handle of his suitcase carefully. "I'm s-sorry to say, i-it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice in the matter. You see, we were sent by your benefactor and the remaining Council, to help in the tutelage of your burgeoning slayers. Still a sh-shame, though, I really...really do appreciate what an inconvenience it must be to have us, what with your many problematic run-ins with the Council. But by some small miracle, we've managed to secure lodging in Meadowbrook for the duration of our stay, s-so you won't have to put up with us morning, noon, and night." He chuckled good-naturedly once more, but cut himself off at the lack of reciprecation, clearing his throat. 

Mirella finally stood, tall and thin, to full height, staring lazily at Buffy as though she could see right through her. "You'd best acclimatize yourself, Ms. Summers," she said with a ghost of a threat in her voice. "This is the way the 'real world' works. So get aboard, or get out of the way." 

"I beg you pardon?" Giles said defensively, narrowing his eyes at Mirella. "Just exactly who do you think your dealing with?" 

While this drew no measure of attention from Mirella, Onslow stood up once more and beamed at Giles. "Rupert Giles, correct?" he asked sunnily. "I'm quite a great fan of your dissertations on the origions of the Primal." 

Giles smiled in spite of himself. "You read those?" he asked. Onslow nodded. "_Hmm_," Giles muttered to himself, quietly proud, "I didn't know anyone read those." He slipped his glassed back on, turning to Buffy. "It's rather impossible to gain feedback through the out-dated channels-." He stopped when he saw Buffy Mirella's bemused expressions, his face falling. 

"All finished?" Mirella asked. "Good, then, back to the subject at hand." She turned her attentions back to Buffy, clasping her hands together. "The young unfortunate that was killed, the circumstances of her death must be investigated, immediately. By **all** of us -- slayers _and_ Council members." 

Xander frowned, confused. "Young unfortunate?" he asked. "Are you saying she was a prostitute?" 

Buffy and Mirella both gave Xander the same frustrated eye-roll. "She's unfortunate because she's dead," Buffy told him. 

Xander smiled. "Not according to a Heather Graham movie," he giggled. 

"_Yeah_," Buffy grunted, embarrassed for them both. She looked back at Mirella. "You want an investigation? Fine, we'll all go. Don't know what you expect to find." 

SCENE FIVE

INT. FUNERAL HOME - MORNING 

The morgue room of Meadowbrook's low end, flat-level funeral home was dark and colorless in the extremely early morning hours. Being in the basement of the building, there were no windows offering any soft blue moonlight of the outside nighttime world. The stainless steel wall of body lockers within was freakishly contrasted by filing cabinets and the two cluttered work desks on the other side of the vast, depressing room. Two straight hours of silence there were instantly pierced as the locked door's knob was snapped -- broken by force -- and Buffy pushed her way in. She moved to the side and held the door open for Marcus, Mirella, Willow, Xander, and Onslow, who followed Buffy in cautiously. 

"You might've tried starting a fire," Mirella whispered to Buffy snottily as she pulled a penlight from her leather tote. "Lord knows that would've called less attention to us." 

"Fine," Buffy whispered back. "The next time we go on a field trip, _you_ break into the morgue, and _I'll_ cower in the shadows like sore thumb." 

Marcus gave a slight chuckle that, upon looking back and catching Mirella's chastising glare, quickly transformed itself into a cough. "Let's just get what we came for," Marcus said quietly, unable to hide his amusement. Buffy cast a glance over her shoulder at him; he smiled boyishly, pulled a flashlight from his jacket pocket, and shined the light up from his chin. "By all means," he whispered impishly, "play through, miss slayer." 

Trying to suppress a return-smile, Buffy quickly busied herself, searching her messenger bag for a small, black walkie-talkie. 

Marcus turned from her smugly and walked right into Onslow, who did some sort of Watcherly wild-take of fear, gasping deeply and snapping his eyes shut, hugging his briefcase. He soon recovered and tried unsuccessfully to pull the flashlight from Marcus's grasp. "Can you be serious for three minutes," Onslow hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "Honestly, you're an absolute gargoyle." 

Buffy's fingertips finally brushed against the smooth plastic and she curled her hand around the walkie-talkie, pulling it clumsily out of her bag (a hot pink yo-yo spilled out along with it) and fiddled with the buttons until she found her frequency. "Giles," she whispered curtly. 

There was a bit of feedback and Giles's voice answered her calmly:_ "Is everyone in?"_

"All present and accounted for," Buffy replied. 

While Giles went on almost incoherently to Buffy, Willow and Xander broke off from the group and headed for the filing cabinets. Willow already had a flashlight out. She sped over and opened one of the cabinets, sending a sympathetic look back to Xander as he fought to catch up. Xander had since abandoned the cane and now was propping himself up on crutches; the large bruise on his jaw was turning green at the outer edges. All that combined with his usual appearance made him look like death, warmed over. 

"Do you wanna sit down?" Willow asked him quietly. 

"I'm here t'help," Xander insisted sternly. "Neither rain, nor sleet, nor sprain of toe. What's my job?" 

Willow appraised him warily for a moment, then brightened and put the butt of the flashlight in front of Xander's mouth. "Hold this, okay?" she asked quickly. Xander shrugged and accepted the flashlight with his teeth, doing his best to shine the light over Willow's work. She started walking her fingers through the files, studying the labels feverishly. "Let's see what other 'drug related' deaths Nevada County's been hiding...." 

Back by the lockers, Onslow and Marcus were sliding out bodies while Mirella supervised, clutching her purse -- her penlight was tucked behind her ear like a pencil. Buffy stayed close to the door, gabbing breezily into the walkie-talkie while doing her level best to unravel a knotted yo-yo string. "I don't see why we need a sample from the body," Buffy grumbled quietly to the receiver. "We already know what Kim 'was'. Is the rest just Watcher kicks?" 

"Barrie says it's the Council's new case file protocall," Marcus whispered reassuringly while closing a locker. "They apparently had to change procedure, what with all the potentials turning. Trust me, Ms. Summers, if there were anyone who'd know what any of us should be doing here, it'd be Barrie." 

As Marcus spoke, Onslow was all business with his latex gloves, and as absorbed in his work as Willow was in hers. He motioned for Marcus to continue pulling out bodies with him, setting the briefcase down by his feet. Marcus opened another locker and slid the metal slab out, where a black body bag held someone's remains. Onslow cheerlessly unzipped the bag to see the upper quarter of Kim's pale and bloody, wide-eyed torso. He, Marcus, and Mirella turned simultaneously to look at Buffy, who shook her head. 

"I...didn't get to meet her," Buffy said soberly, forgetting to whisper. She looked helplessly back at Xander and Willow, but couldn't find her voice to call them. 

Marcus shined his light on Kim's body and Onslow zipped the bag open a few more inches. He started handling the corpse's head and neck, examining. "This is our slayer, I think," he mumbled to himself, with a doctor-like drawl to his voice. "The cadaver appears to be fresh; carrion recently rendered; clearly died of a puncture wound from...." He trailed off and looked up and his fellow Watchers, nervous. "....From the brachiocephalic trunk," he went on timidly. "Straight on through to the vertebral artery." 

"The vertebral artery?" Mirella asked, clutching her purse tighter. "Dear lord, that puts a chill in the bones." 

Buffy raised her hand quizzically. "Uhh, once more in English for the muscle?" she asked, and then popped a large, orange cube of gum into her mouth. 

Mirella smirked at Buffy for a moment, then cocked her brows at Marcus, insult implied. 

"Whomever made that stab knew what he was doing," Marcus explained kindly. "The vertebral artery is located in the back of the neck and carries blood from the heart to the brain. The brachiocephalic arises directly from the aorta, which comes right up from the heart. It would've taken a miracle to get the vertebral artery and the brachiocephalic trunk in one blow, on accident. It's rather brilliant, actually." 

"She m-must've died quickly," Onslow stuttered, gently shutting the corpse's eyes with a sweep of his hand. He stared blankly at the face for a moment, then took a shallow breath. "We should get the sample," he said, then bent down to his briefcase, clicked the locks open and went into it, fumbling around with some items in the dark. After a swift second, he straightened back up with a zip-lock bag and a small pair of surgical scissors. He handed the bag to Marcus. "Give a hand?" he asked softly. 

"Of course," Marcus said with a nod, some measure of sympathy in his voice -- it wasn't clear what the sympathy was for. He took the bag and held it open as Onslow snipped a coil of long, blonde hair and dropped it safely in. Marcus zipped it shut. "That it?" he asked. 

"All I need," Onslow answered, taking the bag and stowing it quickly with the scissors in his briefcase. He shut the case nimbly. 

Mirella tried to catch a peak at it over his shoulder. "What exactly do you do with the hair?" she asked Onslow trepidly. 

Buffy rolled her eyes slowly and with satisfaction as she smacked her gum. "Sounds like I'm not the only one who's out of the loop," she said, in a faux-innocent, sing-song tone. 

Mirella sneered back at Buffy. "Are your little friends quite finished with their rummaging?" she asked. "I'd hate to think their puttering around pathetically with nothing to do." 

EXT. FUNERAL HOME - MORNING 

Summerland's dark green faculty van was parked just a street way from the funeral home. Robin sat in the driver's seat, his arms resting heavily on the steering wheel as he brooded. Faith was sitting in the passenger's side, peering out her window with a pair of binoculars, looking as though she were trying to concentrate. 

"You see anything?" Robin asked sourly, not even looking at her. 

"Just the nothin' I saw two minutes ago," Faith muttered, trying not to break her concentration. 

There was much dividing her and Robin as they sat in silence, but it was more than the aura of contention they'd recently acquired -- Giles was seated in between them, looking horribly uncomfortable. Having long since shed his glasses, he sat stiffly with his walkie-talkie raised, his thumb holding down the "on" button firmly. "Almost finished in there?" he asked the receiver weakly, looking completely shell-shocked. 

"It doesn't have to be a big deal," Robin blurted, resuming his and Faith's old conversation. "Just something special, to break the routine." 

"Our 'routine' doesn't need breaking," Faith said sharply, and with much unnecessary attitude, making Air Quotes to "routine" without letting go of the binoculars. "I **like** the routine -- when I agreed to keep you, it was totally based on the routine!" 

"But all we do now is eat and have sex!" griped Robin. 

"Oh, dear lord," Giles groaned, shutting his eyes and massaging/pinching the bridge of his nose in aversion and embarrassment. 

"Sounds like a good routine to me, man." Faith snorted passively. 

Giles tried to press the "on" button harder on his walkie-talkie. "Buffy," he said into the receiver desperately, "try to move things along, if you can manage? ..._Buffy_? Buffy, I know you're listening, I can hear you blowing bubbles-." 

INT. FUNERAL HOME - MORNING 

Buffy moved her thumb guiltily off the "on" button of her walkie-talkie just as her orange gum-bubble broke and went flaccid. She chewed it back as Onslow and Marcus shut up Kim's locker. 

"You guys almost finished?" Buffy called out to Willow and Xander. 

"I think we're done," Willow said excitedly, rising from one of the lower cabinets. "Peepin' through the cold case files, it turns out Kim was ruled to be 'Classification: Acceptable', whatever that means, and she's not the only one. These files are full of strange deaths under that ruling." 

"Amaffahfah-drra-hha!" Xander grunted, his words muffled by the flashlight. Willow took it from his teeth and he repeated. "And a lot of 'drug related'," he said. "Seems to be the backwoods euphemism for 'screw this murder, I'm goin' home'. Lotta stuff the local yokels are afraid to touch." 

"Good enough for me," Buffy said zestfully. She raised the walkie-talkie and pressed "on". "That's it Giles," she said into the receiver. "We're goin' home." 

Giles' voice responded -- "_Oh, thank god._" -- and with that, the crowd of white hats silently filed out of the morgue. 

SCENE SIX

SUMMERLAND ACADAMEY - MORNING 

Kennedy and Dawn had been sitting at one of the work stations in the library, playing a game of cards while they waited for the others to return. Kennedy showed the signs of her previous mauling, even to the point that she was wheelchair-bound, but having a slayer's healing abilities and threshold for pain, she seemed to be coping well. 

Dawn peeked at Kennedy from over her spread of cards. "Go Fish," she said slyly. 

"Go Fish?" Kennedy asked, annoyed. "I thought we were playing poker." 

"Oh." Dawn happily laid her cards down on the table. "Gin." Kennedy gave her a dirty look. "I transgress boundaries," Dawn answered. "It's _because_ of this that I win. I **win**!" Dawn did a little victory-boogie in her chair, but then stopped, reining herself in with self-deprecation. "I know, I'm in mortal need of a life." At that point, Buffy, her friends, and the new watchers dragged themselves back into the library, all of them silent. Dawn stood up from her chair when she saw them. "Any good news?" she asked Buffy. 

"I dunno," Buffy replied edgily; she folded her arms and glared at Mirella, "where _do_ we stand?" 

Not yet breaking the character of the ingenious watcher persona, Mirella calmly slipped her glassed back on and started rummaging through her bag. "I think it's time to call upon the Council's resources," she said. "There's clearly something off about your little Meadowbrook." 

Buffy sent a cavalier glance to Marcus. "Why is it always _my_ Meadowbrook when it misbehaves?" 

Marcus cracked a smile, which was stifled by the dire look he was getting from Onslow. "I don't think we need to get the council involved," Marcus said quickly to Mirella, starching up Britishly again. "This is most certainly within our grasp of control. Calling on them now seems rather premature." 

"He's right," Giles and Onslow agreed simultaneously. From Giles expression, the fact that they were even slightly in sync clearly upset him. 

"Well, then," Mirella said, breathlessly taken aback, "what do you boys propose?" 

The male watchers looked amongst themselves, slightly baffled, all seeming to have the answer stuck on the tips of their tongues. Faith sneered at the British-ness of it. "I got an idea," she offered. "How 'bout we drop the protocal, do things the American way, and whang this guy when he tries to make his next move?" 

Mirella narrowed her eyes at Faith antagonistically, while Onslow panotmimed the word "whang" to himself, hugging his suitcase. He looked worried and completely flummoxed. 

Buffy side-stepped closer to Faith. "I second," Buffy said. "All for whanging?" At that, everyone in the room except Mirella and Onslow raised their hands -- everyone including Marcus, who tried to disguise his knee-jerk betrayal by scratching his ear. 

"Then I suppose it's settled," Mirella went on in a malicious tone. "We'll follow Faith's plan and patrol for the remainder of the night." 

Buffy made a small whining nose and gawked at Faith, who gawked back. "**So** not my idea," Faith defended herself, pointing at Mirella, "she totally crapped-up what I said. I just meant that, with all these wolven guys at our door, we don't need to be nursin' some whack-job in a helmit." 

"Wolven guys?" Onslow echoed curiously. 

"Yeah," Dawn said, leaning up against the table ledge. "The massive, demony things that live in the woods? Come on, you guys _had_ to know about them, it's like your only job skills." 

Robin flinched jokingly. "Oooh, a shot to the skills," he chuckled, "that's gotta hurt." 

"Mine are rather resilient," said Onslow. "If their an unreported breed of demon -- one that had yet to be survived until now -- there would be no way of alerting our sources. Besides, you people haven't seemed to draw any sharper conclusions." He turned back to Dawn. "Now these...'_wolvens_', as you call them? Can you describe them a bit more accurately? Should they take priority over present matters?" 

"Probably," Kennedy interjected. "And I'm not just saying that because I got totally trashed by them, but those things are nasty. Like, 'grizzly bear' nasty. Their like werewolves." 

"Only **not** werewolves," Willow broke in bitterly. 

"Great," Buffy groaned. "So far, we've managed to classify 'grizzly bear-like Not-Werewolves'. Whatever, I'm patrolling. I need to go whang on _something_." She turned and started for the hallway, Giles right behind her. He caught up and stopped her with a light touch on her shoulder. She whipped around and glared at him. "What?" 

"There's, um, quite a lot surfacing in Meadowbrook at the moment," Giles told her. "Maybe even more than you can handle. Perhaps it's best if we resumed some sort of, uh, training regiment. Focused your engergies-." 

"Look, Giles," Buffy snapped. "I've already got three watchers breathing down my neck, not looking to shoot for a personal best. So why don't you try peddling your pearls of wisdom to some of the slayers who _actually_ need them, 'cause, right now, I _really_ don't." She turned away from Giles, went and got herself the Scythe from the display case by the weapons cabinet, and walked out purposefully. 

After a moment, Marcus followed her, and Mirella followed Marcus, somewhat flustered. Willow and Xander looked and each other indifferently, then followed Mirella, and Kennedy frowned and followed Willow in her wheelchair. 

Giles watched them all as they left with a severed expression of distaste. When they were gone, he looked at Faith expectantly. "Aren't you going with them?" he asked. 

Faith looked down the hall and then back at Giles non-chalantly. "Yeah, sure," Faith said, nodding a bit. She kneeded her right fist into her left palm, fidgeting. "...But, I was just wonderin'," she went on, "if it's not a big deal or anything, maybe I could take you up on that offer?" 

"Offer?" Giles asked cluelessly. 

"You know, the whole 'pearls of wisdom' thing? I mean, if Buffy's not gonna need help, then...maybe I could use it." She shrugged for the breezy effect of shrugging, then turned and followed the others towards the hallway energetically, grabbing a hurling ax on her way out. Giles shadowed after her with an intrigued expression, and then Robin followed Giles, looking significantly less amused. SCENE SEVEN

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY HALLWAY - MORNING

Further out towards the front exit, Marcus caught up to and fell in step with Buffy. "This might not be the best time to ask," he started, "but myself and my colleagues will be needing accommodations. If the town of Meadobrook is, in fact, corrupt, it might be wise if we found quarter among your auxiliary." 

Buffy stopped and gaped at Marcus for a long moment. "Huh?" 

"I'm saying, I think we'd best stay at Summerland." 

Buffy blanched. "You mean, with _us_?" 

"That's the general idea, yes...." 

Back in the library, Onslow and Dawn were standing alone now, casting their eyes around the room uncomfortably. 

"So, the chain-gang's gone," Dawn said to him, gregariously as possible. "Do you wanna sit down? Let me take your case." 

"Thank you," Onslow said with a benevolent smile, "but that's impossible." He peered around himself. "You have a problem with those wolven things, how do you keep them at bay?" 

"It's a spell," Dawn answered, looking at him strangely. "A shield dealy from the 'Libey Magory'. It's this old book Giles picked up in La Boca." 

Onslow started to wander toward the weapons cabinet. "I'm actually familiar with the Liber Magorum. My father had one when he was alive." 

"Your father died?" Dawn asked, sympathetic, though clearly uneasy. 

"Yes, when I was a child." Onslow peeked curiously through the weapons. "He had his copy of the book shut up with him in in the family vault." 

Dawn grimaced. "Guess he really liked it." 

Onslow gave her a sober, unassuming look. "Oh, _that's_ not why." 

Dawn folded her arms, shuddering slightly -- she obviously didn't like the way he said that. "So, why can't I carry your case?" she asked, changing the subject quickly. 

"This is a very old case," he answered. "If you don't hold it just right, the blasted thing falls apart." 

"Well, I could hold it super-duper careful, like you do. And after I find a place for it, we could play cards or something. Y'know, since everybody took off on us." 

Onslow smiled at Dawn a bit. "Yes. I'd like that." SCENE EIGHT

SUMMERLAND ACADAMEY HALLWAY - MORNING

Faith pushed her way to the front of the small crowd in the hallway that consisted of Buffy's friends and two of the three new Watchers. She pushed her hair off of her face and pulled a bolt out of a small plastic tube that was strapped to her leg and waist like a gun holster and loaded it into a black plastic crossbow, "Okay, I'm good to go, we splittin' up or doin' double duty?"

Buffy's brows knit together and she sighed, softening a bit at Faith's willingness, "Double duty. I don't think it's a good idea for us to meet one of those..._things_ at half strength."

"Right. I say we lose the peanut gallery and get to thwackin'." Faith recklessly aimed her crossbow around the hallway, including directly at a few of the people standing around her, some of whom covered their faces or ducked away from the weapon. Faith turned to look over her shoulder at Robin who was sternly glaring at her, as if by 'peanut gallery' she had directly insulted him and taken him out of the game. For a moment she looked at him sympathetically then turned back to Buffy who stood a few feet away, examining the scythe's blade for sharpness.

Robin stood quietly for a few moments then sighed with defeat, "Well one thing's for sure, if you two are gonna patrol you'll need someone -"

"To stay here and make sure the girls are safe." Buffy cut him off for fear that he might invite himself along on her patrol the way Faith had a few moments earlier. She turned the scythe handle in her hands and watched the blade spin slowly in front of her, "We'll be okay."

Both Robin and Xander were about to retort when the budding argument was pierced by the sound of shrill scream coming from outside the school's large steel and glass doors.

Buffy took it upon herself to take a few steps towards the door, reluctantly removing one hand from the scythe's handle and reaching it out to push the door open slightly. Outside of the school the weather was turbulent, wind sweeping clouds through the sky and past the moon, occasionally darkening the ground below that now seemed to swarm with wolf monsters.

"Oh god..." Upon closer inspection Buffy could distinctly make out three mammoth figures approaching the school and took a few steps backward before turning and walking into the middle of the small crowd of Scoobies, "We've got company."

"Wolves." Faith stated, readying her crossbow, her expression giving away no fear or anxiety about the coming fight.

Buffy nodded, gripping the scythe's handle in both hands, "Right, and we don't have time to argue. Giles, Willow, go try to get that spell thingie working again. Watchers, Xander, get in the library and stay there until I come for you. Faith, you're with me."

"I'm on it." Faith assured, following Buffy who'd already started walking towards the doors as the other Scoobies just nodded and slipped back into the library, some of them griping beneath their breath at Buffy's orders but ready to go about their assigned tasks anyway..

"Where do you want me?" Robin asked, the only Scooby left standing in the now empty hallway behind the Slayers. Buffy turned to look over her shoulder, her body still facing the exit.

"My sister's in that room, I know you'll make sure she's safe if one of those things gets in here."

Robin glanced from Buffy to Faith and then nodded disappointedly, "Got it." With that he disappeared back into the library, letting the door swing for a moment before losing momentum and stopping by itself.

Faith dutifully heads out after Buffy, shaking her head, "Whoa, Summers, you pulled out 'the speech'."

Buffy's eyes dart to Faith and then around the ground a bit nervously, "Well..he was gonna come with us.."

The Slayers exchanged smirks and turned to look ahead of themselves at the small but daunting pack of Wolvens that was now bounding towards them. "Here's crap in your eye." Faith snorted, warranting a disgusted nose scrunch from Buffy. Both women lifted their weapons and charged defiantly towards their enemies. 

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY LIBRARY - MORNING

Back at the library, Dawn was in the middle of a nother card game, this time with Onslow Barrie, who peered warily from his hand to Dawn. He set a red queen on the top of the remaining deck and smiled. 

"I've stolen your bundle," he said. "Give up while you've still got cards." 

Dawn narrowed her eyes and the challenge. They both made decks of their hands and started slapping down cards, stouting in nar unision, Dawn pulling slightly ahead: "_One, two, three, four, five_ -- Slap Jack!" 

Onslow looked at the cards and groaned, while Dawn did her victory-boogy in her chair. "_I win_!" she sang. "_I win, I win, I win,_ **I** win!" 

The library doors pushed open, and Robin, Giles, Willow, and Kennedy came back into the room, follwed by Mirella and Marcus. "There's been a breech of the Sheild," Robin told them. "Some of the wolvens broke in again." 

Onslow and Dawn put there cards down and pulled ou tof their chairs. "Is everybody okay?" Dawn asked. 

"We don't know," Giles said, striding away from the others. "Buffy and Faith are handling it-." 

"We're gonna try to put the shield up again," Willow added, "try to fortify it for the time being." She pushed some things off the nearest workstation and headed for the stacks. 

Willow went off to the bookcage and Giles came to the table with a wide strong box. He set it down and pulled a set of keys from his pocket, selecting one, which he used to unlock the box. He opened it, revealing it to contain a baker's dozen runestones. The runes were in the formation of a circle, with one rune at the center, all sitting snugly in little cubbies that were etched into the three-inch-deep square of polystyrene that filled the box bottom. All of the runes were in place, save for one: the "Crossroads". 

Giles muttered to himself angrily. "How did this happen?" 

"How, indeed," Mirella blustered from behind him. She put her glasses on, glaring down at the circle of runes. "A Pictish banishment wall? Upon landing in Meadowbrook, I'd _assumed_ we might have to endure some display of fatuous wizardry," she gave Giles a dirty look, "but not from **you**. This cannot go on, I forbid it." 

"There's nothing else we can do," Giles said. He hurridly replaced the rune and turned back to Mirella. "There isn't another way" 

She raised her hands to her hips, scowling up at him. "I said, 'No'." 

"You can say it until you're blue in the face, Miss Bartlett," he growled, "it won't change who you're dealing with. So either arm yourself to help the others, or sit down and shut the hell up, unless you've got a better plan, in which case, let's here it?" 

Mirella's lip curled in contempt. She stormed away from Giles and toward her Luggage. She opened a Louis Vuitton keepall and took out a short-handled, medieval looking ax. She bressed a brass button at the pummel and the handle extended itself triple the length. She sent a daggar-eyed glance back at Giles. "I think I'm needed outside." She turned to Marcus and Onslow. "We're heading out." 

"Not alone?" Robin asked. 

Everyone her a loud crack. That turned to see Xander at the weapon's cabenit, cocking a tranque gun. He smiled. "Not alone." 

SCENE NINE

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY LIBRARY - MORNING

In the library, Willow had long since returned with the supplies that now surrounded her and the runes. There were sparrow feathers littering the table, spools of different colored cords, a long, golden chain pulled to pieces, and an engraved, wooden bowl full of yellow resin. Willow and Kennedy had quickly made a rope of the cords, knotting feathers and bits of chain into it. 

Willow laughed meekly to herself as she slowly dropped the rope into the resin. "Let's just hope Buffy doesn't miss her necklace too much." 

"_That's_ what you're worried about?" Kennedy asked. 

She moved in front of the rune circle and smiled at her friends. "You guys might wanna get cover your eyes, this place is gonna light up like the planetarium Laser Rock Show." Her friends moved back and Willow picked up the Liber Magorum and set it down open, beside the strong box; she studied the pages quietly. 

Giles looked on, somewhat nervous. "Um, Willow," he started shakily. "The Liber Magorum -- it's spells are, uh,...rather draining. The invocatio of intial action is to the ancients, but the power for a secondary trangression requires a sacrifice of _self_, to an extent." 

"Thanks for the heads-up," she said kindly, holding her hands over the runes. "I get how it works, only the first one's free. But, good for us, I happen to be majorly juiced today." She closed her eyes; there was a humming sound. The tables began to shake and the resin started forming syrupy bubbles. Willow looked out on the library again, her eyes had gone black. She began the spell imploringly: "Annulus defendans,...annulus beata,...non est mea culpa!" She placed one hand in the bubbling resin, keeping the other splayed over the runes. "Umbra ducens, solum potestis prohibere monstrum mali incognitum!" Violet, sulfuric streams of light began to lick up her arm from the resin like flames, climbing and swarming around her. "Monstrum repulsus pariei vis! Porta captivitas!" 

Willow began to glow, brighter and brighter, until the library went yellow with light, dark orange streaks streaming like beams of sunlight from her very being. 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL GROUNDS - MORNING

A great shaggy body reared up then keeled and fell onto the ground weakly. The monster yelped a doglike shriek of pain as the Scythe cut a Buffy-induced wound into it's shoulder blade. It tucked it's head between it's two front legs and rolled into a somersault forward off of the blade then scrambled to it's feet to make a getaway into the shelter of the woods. Buffy watched it's retreat with a broad and satisfied smile before turning around to fight her way into the fray again.

"Buffy!" Faith, who was now weaponless having lost her crossbow in the fight, bellowed loudly as she was thrown against the white adobe-style face of the school building by a single swipe from the paw of the smallest wolf monster. She ricochetted off of the wall and fell to her knees on the ground, quickly standing upright and pulling her fist back. She socked the monster right in the eye and it reeled back for a moment, absorbing the blow with an aching howl. "B!" Faith shouted again, in hopes of getting some assistance from the only person around with a weapon.

The Scythe struck red mark across the face of a wolven and Buffy followed her blow with a kick to the jaw as the multitude of Wolvens swarmed around her, the fight and power of the blade in her hands proving too powerful a lure for her. She all but ignored Faith's call, punching and cutting her way through the pack of wolves that lacked only the monster who'd cornered Faith.

Faith grunted as she struggled with the beast, resting her back against the school building for leverage as she tried to rabbit-kick the animal's legs out from underneath it with no luck. She landed a kick to the monster's shoulder that sent it stumbling back a few feet, only to howl angrily and advance again.

The Wolven began to close in with a meanacing snarl but before it could pounce on Faith yelped and was pulled backwards, frustratedly swiping at Faith but unable to reach her. Faith watched as the monster was dragged farther from her by a long black cable. On the other end of the wrapped wire, Marcus and Mirella were both firmly holding onto dark green hand held harpoon that was too large for just one of the Watchers to carry by themselves but still small enough to be mobile during a fight. The Wolven struggled and thrashed, only to be met by an electrical charge that Mirella had deployed down the length of the cable from a yellow button on the harpoon's gun. The wolf spasmed and dropped to the ground.

Faith cracked the joints in her neck and coughed, rolling her shoulders as Marcus shoved a sword in her hand with a smirk and a sarcastic wink, "I'm sure you had the situation under control, but humour us, would you?"

Faith grumbled to herself, reluctantly taking the sword just in time to fend off a blow from an oncoming beast. Nearly a block away Mirella, longly followed by Marcus, joined Buffy in the wake of the pack that had since become more interested in the school than the Slayer. "Isn't this exciting?" Mirella called to Buffy over the sounds of the howling and various growls combined with the weather and the sounds of large bodies hitting the dirt. She reached out and grabbed Buffy by the wrist, tugging her forward. Mirella curled Buffy's hand around one handle bar of what looked like a small police-issued battering ram that had been hollowed out and loaded with a silver stake. "Hold this!"

Buffy did as she was told, watching the heavy instrument warily but with curiosity as Mirella took a hold of the handle on the other side and began to aim it at the closest wolf monster. She pulled a thin black hammer back and began to steady the gun, getting the animal in her site "There you are..."

Realizing that Mirella meant to shoot the Wolven, Buffy tugged on her side of the cannon just as Mirella triggered the blow. The 'bullet' clipped the monster's leg before embedding itself in a tree trunk. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Apparently what you cannot." Mirella scolded, furiously reloading the cannon only to have the bullet pulled out by Buffy.

"Hello? Didn't Giles let you in on the whole 'we think they're people' theory? You can't just shoot them until we know for sure."

Mirella yanked the cannon from Buffy's grip and started back towards the school, Buffy following at a close jog. "Have it your way, Miss Summers. How do _**you**_ propose we deal with the current situation? Those ...._things_... will undoubtedly overtake the school in a matter of moments."

Buffy sighed and looked around herself, "The woods. Giles, Willow...they're putting the shield back up, if we can just drive the wolfie guys back into the woods we might buy ourselves enough time to shut them out permanently."

Mirella nodded and the two women exchanged glances as they caught up with the pack, who were now being fended off by Faith and Xander. 

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY LIBRARY - MORNING

Everyone in the library heard a loud, popping bang and the light abruptly died. Willow went limp and fell back to the ground hard. 

"Willow!" Giles shouted involuntarily, darting to her side. He propped her head and shoulders up from the ground. She opened her eyes, staring wildly through the comparative darkness. 

Kennedy rolled her chair to Willow's other side, "You alright, honey?" she asked. 

Willow smiled stupidly at her, practically breathless. "Ladies and Gentleman -- Cosmic Light!" 

Kennedy and Giles frowned in confusion. They looked back at the table; the bowl was broken and it's contents were gone. A familiar distortion swelled in a mushroom cloud from the rune circle, welling up slowly and ominously as a cartoon fire hose with a knotted end. It gained momentum and finally broke, washing the room in a great ripple of power that grew quickly too large to not have reach outside the school. 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL GROUNDS - MORNING

Marcus sprinted up to the Buffy and Mirella, gasping for air.

"Barrie, he's missing, I think he's run off! Terribly Cynophobic, you know."

Buffy looked thoroughly confused and Mirella shook her head, "No time to search for him now, we can only pray he makes it back into the school. The plan now seems to be - " she was cut off by a shot ringing out, a tranquilizer dart hitting her in the forearm. She looked down at the bolt in her flesh before stumbling forward and falling into unconsciousness in Marcus' arms.

"Well this is a stroke of luck, isn't it?" Marcus griped cynically beneath his breath as he dragged Mirella into the school.

Buffy didn't stay to watch them go, she was already in a dead run towards a Wolven. She raised the Scythe over her head and winced as she slashed the Wolven's back, making it let out a horrified human scream and howl before turning and bolting towards the timber, followed by the last of the pack that hadn't taken off in the earlier fight. The wolf with the human voice was nearly in the forest when a ripple of white magick spread out from the school and lifted the wolf into the air, throwing it into the woods with the large taser harpoon still in it's shoulder blades. Marcus, who'd just run back out of the building, watched his weapon go with a small frown.

"Oh, bleeding priceless! That was **my** personal property!"

Buffy wiped her forehead with relief and reached out to grab ahold of the tranquilizer gun that Xander had clutched in his hand. Xander chuckled to himself at the sight of the thrown beast, "That Air Wolf thing is even better the second time." 

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY LIBRARY - LATE MORNING

In the aftermath of the wolven battle, The slayers, watchers, and other residents of Summerland Academy assembled themselves in the library once more. Xander entered the room with a wary sigh. On his shoulder he carried Onslow's axe that had been abandon in front of the school sometime during the battle. The long-missing Andrew had come in with him. 

"...So, what have you been living on all this time?" Xander asked, still decidedly surprised to see him. 

"I'd been collecting a little cache for myself," Andrew said, matter-of-factly, but still admittedly. "Skimming a little _Hostess_ here and there." 

Xander stopped and gave him a dirty look. "You didn't touch my Twinkie stash, did you?" he asked in his faux deep, macho voice. 

Andrew averted his eyes. "I took what I needed to make it through-." 

Xander pulled the axe back, as though he were going to calmly take Andrew's head off. "**Nobody** steals from the Twinkie Kid. **Now you must die**." 

Andrew shrunk back defensively. "It was a survival scenario!" he argued, grabbing a chair to fend Xander off. "No fighting among the crew!" 

Xander grumbled and lowered the axe, taking a breath and going to his Zen place. "The Twinkie Kid has had a busy day." 

On the other side of the room, Robin was nearly through helping Kennedy distribute tall Styrofoam cups with hot water and steeping teabags from the main research table where he and Kennedy had put them together. "I can't believe I'm reduced to this," Robin muttered to himself, shaking his head. He handed a cup each to Dawn and Onslow, who sat together on the main stairwell. Onslow took a sip of his, to Robin's mild disgust. "The tea isn't done steeping yet," Robin told him. 

"That's alright," Onslow said gratefully. "I don't mind." To that, Robin allowed himself a silent moment of perplexity before moving on to the others. Onslow turned to Dawn. "Made a proper showing, didn't I?" he asked, quite chagrined. "I should've said something about my fear of dogs before I went out and made an idiot of myself." 

Dawn smiled at him and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel too bad. They don't even let me fight with them, they're so scared something's gonna happen to me-. You're lucky, they don't even care if _you_ get hurt." 

Onslow pursed his lips, slightly annoyed and pouting. "What a pretty way to look at it," he said to himself glumly. 

"You wanna play Monopoly?" Dawn asked. Onslow glared at her, got up from the stairs, and walked away. Dawn watched him go and put up a relenting hand. "_Okay_, we'll go by the rules this time...." 

Not too far from them, Faith leaned against the wall, looking at her axe and musing to herself. She was gladly startled when Robin came over to her with two cups of coffee. "Hey, I saved you a java," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

"Thank god," she said, accepting her coffee. "I thought I was gonna hafta gag you with a teabag. SO it's not moonlight and roses, but, hey, we're havin' the big romance, right?" 

"Say, maybe the wolvens'll cut the power again, and we can do candlelight." 

Faith scrunched her nose, dipping her index finger into her coffee out of sheer boredom then popped it into her mouth, sucking the coffee off of her skin in a way that half disgusted Robin and half turned him on. "How the hell did they do that, anyway?" 

A few feet away Buffy, Willow, Giles, and Xander sat down to one of the work stations together, smiling congenially at one another in their exhaustion. 

"That was fun," Willow said sarcastically, still looking a little slagged. 

"We've temporarily staved the wolves off," Giles said. 

Buffy looked gravely over his shoulder. "Now what are we gonna do about _them_?" 

Giles turned in regard to her look and saw the new watchers together again by the door of Giles office, Marcus and Mirella whispering among each other as the three gazed suspiciously out over the crowd of scoobies. "They better not go in there," Giles said. "If I found out they've moved anything of mine-." 

"We have to find a place to put 'em," Xander said gloomily. "Street, maybe?" 

"I don't trust them," Buffy said. "They could be anybody, from anywhere." 

"Or worse," Giles suggested with a grimace. "They could actually be from the council." 

The four of them group-shuttered. "But," Buffy added brightly, "at least _we_ still rock." 

That warranted a "Yeah," from Willow, a "Here-here," from Xander, and an arched brow from Giles. "You're enjoying this too much," he said, suppressing a smile as he raised his cup. 

"Enjoyment might be too strong a word. I had some Buffy time to think about it and I've come to the conclusion that I genuinely like predictable. Predictable is Buffy's friend." Buffy sighed, sipping from her cup and lifting her eyes to stare at the new authority figures in their midst, "I dunno if I could handle any more surprises." 

WOLFRAM AND HART BUILDING - LOS ANGELES - MEANWHILE

Angel tapped his pencil on an empty Starbuck's take out cup with a jittery sigh as Harmony walked into the room without knocking. She made her way to Angel's desk and set down a brown plastic tray with three more take out cups on it. Angel smiled as broadly as he could muster, "Thanks, Harmony." He reached for a cup and pulled the plastic lid off, looking down at the blood but not drinking. He glanced back at Harmony, who's watching him expectantly. "What?"

"Nothing, just, your blood's getting cold. I don't wanna nuke it again, that creepy guy from accounting's by the microwave and he keeps looking at me. I can't believe he's on the Faith case. He's gonna screw it up.... Don't tell him I said that! I think he own's Tiffany's."

"I won't...wait, the Faith case? There's a Faith case?" Angel asked with astonishment, "As in my Faith -uh the Slayer, Faith? As in I don't remember giving my O.K. for that?"

Harmony shrugged, "Could be?"

Angel sighed, "Okay, from now on, when something happens here I need to know, okay? No more out of the loop?"

"You're the boss, Boss." Harmony answered with a chipper smile as she lifted the blood track again and headed for the door, pushing her way out of the room and walking down the hall and into another office. She smiled brightly at all of the people in the room and set her tray down again in front of a client. Drusilla looked up at Harmony with a wide, toothy smile and Harmony pulled the lid off of a cup, holding it out to Dru. "Sorry, all out of human. Pheasent okay?"

FIN - Based on the Television Show created by Joss Wheadon. 


	4. EPisode 04 Paper Roses

PAPER ROSES ( Episode 4 ) by Faith Bowie & Laota French - read more at next-tuesday dot org!  
TEASER

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY HALLWAY - MORNING

The hallway was buzzing with activity as the S.A. students rushed to their classes and various campus activities. Buffy and Willow walked the length of the white linoleum floor towards the last classroom at the end of the hallway.

"I dunno, Will. Languages class kinda sounds evil. Generally I _slay_ evil." Buffy scrunched her nose. "God, teaching. Me. Who'da thunk? Evil class leads to evil thoughts."

Willow dog eared the last of many dog eared pages in a large, red manual and set it on top of Buffy's already hefty stack of books. "Oh, no! It's the easiest class, really! All your lessons are outlined, just stick to the lesson plan and read the teachers manual and you're all set." She smiled.

Buffy nodded, returning Willow's smile, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a giant butt pain or anything, just kinda stressed. I mean, that girl last week....and the wolves. And on top of that, fluttery insides. Butterflies vs. Stomach. You know the drill." she sighed and glanced over her lesson manual, getting a split second happy tingle upon seeing a sheet of gold star stickers peeking out of the book. "Ooh, I get to gold star people."

"Yup." Willow grinned and helped Buffy put her books into a tan leather shoulder-slung book bag, "And there's silvers there too. I wanted to get the bronze ones but they were out."

"You went all out," Buffy observed, closing her book and slipping it back into the book bag. She glanced up at Willow, teasing with a small, innocent smile, "See now I'll feel sort of guilty when I sneak out during lunch and catch a boat to Singapore."

"No!" Willow growled, suddenly bursting with anger for seemingly no reason, "There will be _no_ Singapore Boat! You..._you_ didn't pick a class in time, you didn't pick a class at all! Everybody's taught **_Dante's Inferno_** but you, and I am _not_ going back into that class room!"

"Hey!" Buffy put her hands up defensively, "Will, calm down, I was joking! Remember? Special Joke-Fun Buffy with new Poke-Fun action?"

Willow swallowed and nodded, calming herself, "Sorry, was up too late last night with the lesson plan and all. There was a coffee incident."

Buffy chuckled and shook her head as the two watched the girls start to line up in front of the classroom door to wait for the second bell, "It's okay, I think we're all a little stressed." She adjusted the strap of her book bag on her shoulder and opened the classroom door, "Dante's Inferno? I thought you said it was the easiest class?"

"Willow's been known to fib." Willow responded with a small grin, "Besides if I told you this class came from hell with a banjo on it's knee, you probably wouldn't have agreed to teach it."

"Good point." Buffy agreed with a thoughtful nod as she and Willow walked into the classroom to get things set up. "I guess it could be worse, I could have gym. Ah, gym, how I hate you."

"Yeah, I think it's good for Faith, though. It's like her _thing_, she's got the girls stoked to go to class." Willow began to open the drawers in Buffy's desk one at a time, filling each with essentials such as paper, pencils and erasers. She saved the last drawer for Buffy's teaching manuals.

"Yeah, good for her." Buffy feigned agreement with a roll of the eyes. She opened a heavy book that was sitting on her desk to the first of Willow's dog eared pages and started to copy the page contents onto the chalkboard. "That was a _real_ good idea. Put Faith in charge of young minds and give her a reason get violent. Why didn't **_I_** think of that?"

"Hey, nice attitude to have. Remind me, do we still give out second chances?" Willow asked, not looking up from her task but obviously upset by Buffy's statement. "Sorry. It's just. Issues." 

Buffy shook her head and sighed, sinking to sit in the chair behind her desk, "Sorry. Didn't mean to get all judicial there, it's just with Faith it's _not_ a second chance. It's more like a five hundredth chance. I know she's trying....I _know_ she's better. But in the back of my mind I'm still worried that she's gonna hurt somebody."

CUT TO SUMMERLAND ACADEMY - THE DOCKS - DAY 

The floorboards of the Lake Milimo peer groaned loudly when Rupert Giles slammed bodily down to the dock. He looked up to see Faith standing over him, brandishing a broadsword. "Say g'night, English," she said with a relishing smile as she raised back the sword, ready to take Giles' head. 

Giles narrowed his eyes, recoiled, and dove past left side quickly, going into a roll toward the start of the dock. Along the way, he tumbled over a discarded sword, taking up with him as he went, and then and popped back up to his feet like a Russian acrobat; as soon as he armed himself, he immediately began returning her attack, meeting her steel with the outer edge of his blade. They faced off, hacking at each other and grunting with exertion. 

Faith and Giles had taken their watcher-slayer training to the peace and quiet of the docks that morning, Giles clad in his earth-toned casuals, Faith in her black-and-white leisures. They were both sweating and disheveled, and had obviously spent quite some time engaging each other at a lively pace, though neither seemed to tire of the fight. With a flurry of clumsy blows, Faith beat Giles back down to the ground and onto his back, strong-arming both his and her sword toward his throat. She grinned with self-satisfaction, catching her breath and putting her weight into it. 

Giles' gazed into her eyes sadly, struggling to speak and he feebly pushed back. "_I'm sorry_," he grunted. 

Faith sneered. "For what?" 

In truly rapid, graceful secession for a man his size and age, Giles somehow slipped out from under Faith and kicked her sideways onto to dock, totally blindsiding her; as she fell, she dropped her sword; Giles took it up, and, before Faith could do more than facially react to the move, Giles had the points of both swords at her throat. He closed in, cornering her neck with the blades, so close that twitch of either his arms would've cut open her throat. He smirked boyishly. "That, for example," he answered retroactively. 

Faith smirked back at him. "You _tricked_ me?" she panted, obviously impressed. "Some dirty pool, G. -- what _exactly_ are we trainin' for here?" 

Giles stepped back, withdrawing the swords and giving Faith the chance to get to her feet. "I was merely feinting," he told her dryly, trying to "Stuffy Old Brit" himself up. "An action feigned to deceive one's opponent." 

"That some more fencing wisdom?" Faith asked, taking back her sword as she rose to her feet. 

"No," he sighed. "In fencing, a feint is meant to be false attack, calculated to divert an opponent's attention from one's real purpose. If we were fencing, I would've just beaten you with a 'false'." He assumed an En Garde position. "Try not to get the two confused." 

"So, you fencers are low-down, silly bitches?" she noted, raising her sword. "Good t'know." Without warning, she engaged him and they were in "conversation" again, (trading thrusts and parries) circling each other slowly at first, elegantly, their blades flashing and ringing. "But you still beat me," Faith resumed. She livened, setting the pace for Giles. 

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Giles asked, matching her blow-for-blow as they sped through a set. "Because your more than twice as fast, less than half as old?" 

Faith moved them to lightening speed, almost impossible to follow. "That," she panted, "and a set of wicked French-tips away from Wolverine-fierce." 

"Precisely!" He took a strong, wide stroke at Faith with the broad side of his sword, knocking her back into a retreat so quickly, she nearly went down; he didn't stop hacking at her for a second while he spoke. "You have every gift to a slayer's advantage. Youth. Speed. Preternatural strength. It's who you are," he elbowing her across the chops, sending her into a header, "and all you know." She whipped her head around back around in astonishment, just in time to find herself at the end of his sword again. "You didn't think I could beat you," Giles continued solemnly, keeping the sword on her, "and you lost." 

"Does Buffy know you can kick slayer-ass?" she asked, still incredulous. 

Giles lowered his sword and shrugged. "She never asked." He took a step back to allow Faith to regroup. 

She got back to her feet. "Yeah, but you guys trained for years." 

"Never with the swords," he said, raising his guard again. "While I spent twenty seven years developing my skills, Buffy decided to end her training..._prematurely_." There was obvious irritation in his voice, though not obvious enough for Faith. 

She cocked her head toward one shrugged shoulder with an ignorant, infinitesimal expression of indifference. With that, they engaged again, Faith feinting and chopping, Giles glissading casually. He spun around and made to bring his sword down on her like an axe; as he did, Faith quickly raised her sword to block the blow; Giles swiftly changed direction, spinning down and kicking out, sweeping Faith's legs out from under her. She caught herself masterfully without hitting the ground, got to her feet, and looked back at Giles, only to find him missing. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Giles was there, holding his sword on her with quiet intensity. 

"Y'know, I was **tryin'** not to hurt you," Faith said. "If you can hit and I can't-." 

"It's not fair," Giles agreed, lowering the blade. "Never the less, you can't forget your focus. Lose that and you've lost the fight." 

"Focus?" she asked with the disdain. "Dude, you cheated." 

"I'm a watcher," he replied, smiling, "what did you expect?" Noting her frustration, he became serious again, understanding her anger. "You fight evil, Faith, both demon and human. Evil isn't bound by the rules of a slayer. Of fairness, decency, and even of nature -- the rules a hero cannot break. These apply only to you, and that's one of the most important marks of distinction, not only in separating good from evil, but in the carving of one's own soul." Faith's expression changed slowly, going from one of resolute confusion to the beginning of comprehension. Giles lowered his sword slightly as he went on. "But the moment you anticipate what is and is not possible for you opponent, you'll be distracted from the actual attack. Expect to be _surprised_, and remember your focus. You never know with whom or what you'll be fighting...." 

"Think you're forgettin' something about me." Faith responded quietly as Giles circled to her left, keeping the sword on her without wavering.

Giles arched a doubtful brow, "Am I?"

Faith nodded, a small and painful smile curling at the corners of her mouth, creasing effective lines into her face, "I walk the line." Giles looked a bit confused until Faith dropped back to the ground, catching his wrist in one hand to evade the sword, the other hand holding her balance on the dock. She threw an unholy kick towards his abdomen. 

CUT TO SOMEWHERE IN MEADOWBROOK - MORNING 

Somewhere in Meadowbrook, several shrouded figures in brown suede robes shuffled into a small, dimly lit room. The walls of the room were furnished with cheap pine paneling, and littered with icons and wall-mounted statues of a beautiful, deific woman, sometimes featured with a infant boy. The dead center of the room featured a grand, porcelain baptismal pool. Awaiting the entering figures were more of their kind, climbing down the molded steps into the waterless pool; some of the figures swung platinum censers, filling the air with smoke -- all chanted something close to the Canto Fermo. The baptismal pool contained a large oak table that had been fitted with manacle cuffs at all four corners. And lying on that table, locked down by the cuffs, there was a gagged, struggling vampiress, fully vamped out. Dressed in the demonically lame, requisite-for-a-newbie "Avril" attire, she watched wide-eyed as the robed figures encircled her, shouting muffled imprecations through her gag. 

One robed man stepped into the foreground, holding a large, black, leather-bound book open in front of him. He recited in a gravelly, masculine voice: 

"Prenez cette petite vie pour vos armées, vos buts, et envoyez-nous votre garçon en sa place." The man ripped a page from the book and held over the vampire. The ripped edge of the page began to burn on it's own, slowly turning the paper black. The man dropped his page onto the vampire's chest. "Son nom n'est pas désormais une partie de votre volume des morts. Tenez factuel dans Enfer ce que nous tenons factuel sur Terre." After these words, the page went completely black, embers leaping off of it, onto the vampire; her clothing was catching fire, a fire that spread quickly over her body. She squeeled and struggled as the apathetic figures continued their chanting, watching her become enveloped by flame. The man resumed his reciting: 

"Maîtresse! Donnez-nous ce fils d'obscurité, pure à l'intérieur. Ne joue pas avec moi!" The shrouded man stepped back; the vampiress screamed through her gag as the black flames covered and ate away at her body and an echoing, monstrously demonic cry seemed to come from her very being, like the sound of something far off on it's way. But rather than be destroyed, she continued to burn until she was unrecognizable through the fire. Then, slowly, the fire began to die back some how, ebbing as though the very nature of the flames were thrown in reverse, and in place of the vampiress, there was another vampire -- male, darkly clad, and also vamped-out. Bleach blonde, wearing an amulet.... 

Spike snorted a growl and a cast an impatient, dissident glare around himself. Starting to get a idea of his position, he began fighting wildly and maliciously against his fetters. 

The shrouded man laughed derisively at Spike's reaction. "Regarder, le petit bâtard délire complètement...." 

SCENE ONE

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY STAFF CABINS - MORNING 

Kennedy parked her wheelchair in front of the waste basket. She was wearing a pink velour tracksuit and a gray jogging bra -- the hoodie was unzipped, as she was tearing bandages and surgical tape off her stomach, and tossing them. They were the last wounds to heal from her encounter with the wolvens, and they were nearly gone. "Thank you, slayer powers," she said to herself chipper-ly. 

Kennedy rolled back toward the sleeping area of the large room. The staff cabin's at Summerland were old, log cabin style building, separated by a massive dividing brick wall into two great rooms, each with it's own bathroom and fireplace. The walls of Willow and Kennedy's room were littered with scarves, sconces, stings of gold Christmas light, and anything else large enough to cover the woodsy, rustic look. There were varying sizes of beeswax candles in the fireplace. 

Willow -- who had accidentally slept late -- had been skittering around the room, doing her best to get ready to go out. She pulled a cowl poncho over her black tube top, grabbed an armful of books and folders, and headed for the door. 

"Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Kennedy asked. 

Willow stopped and looked back sheepishly. "...I didn't just kiss you?" 

Kennedy chuckled, "Great, Willow turns basket case. And you know who suffers? The girlfriend." 

Willow came back and gave Kennedy a kiss, shifting her loads to keep from dropping them. "Sorry if I've been a little flaky lately, but I really do hafta meet up with Buffy and go over the lesson plan with her, and then I hafta meet up with the guys-." 

"To what? Catch up on the last eight years you've spent together?" Willow gave Kennedy a surprised look, which Kennedy returned with a playful smile. "Yes, I am a turd, but I would not **have** to be if you'd spend every waking hour with me, and me alone. That didn't sound too demanding, did it?" 

Willow nodded. "A pinch, yeah." 

"Well, I don't get to go out so much anymore, and you just take off. Would you even notice if I wasn't here?" 

Willow frowned. "Hey, y'know when the best time to bring this stuff up is? When I'm late...." She gave Kennedy a quick kiss on the forehead and hurried out of the cabin, just in time to catch up with Buffy on the lawn. 

Buffy looked her usual fresh self, her hair twisted up fetchingly, clad in a parchment-colored, sherpa trim jacket with white, notch back trousers. She grinned at Willow and greeted her: "Hey, Buffy says something funny." 

"Yeah, but Willow is wittier," Willow replied, then returned her grin. "As per usual-. Hey -- did you just wanna be at that trading post in Adventureland?" 

Buffy gaped at Willow. "**How** do you do that? Ooh -- evil powers, that's probably exactly how." 

Both ladies were distracted by the sound of an argument on the lawns. Xander was storming away from his cabin, Andrew in close pursuit. Xander seemed very annoyed. "If you shoot your grandfather," he explained angrily, "and you die, then nobody could go back in time to shoot your grandfather, so then you _wouldn't_ die!" 

"You're missing the ripple effect," said Andrew. "Time travel into the future is always the extrapolation of current events of the immediate present, therefore, if one was to return to the present from the past-." 

"_The end!_" Xander shouted, losing his patience. "And now you **go**. I have work to do!" 

Andrew narrowed his eyes at Xander and muttered to himself, as he turned, heading back to Xander's cabin. "That ungrateful little man...." 

Buffy gave Xander a playfully shocked expression. "What's up with the Dallas drama-rama?" 

Xander shook his head, still angry. "Oh, so much is up. Ever since the watchers moved their way into Summerland, I've been bunked up with Andrew and Giles." Willow and Buffy cracked up laughing. "It's not funny, I've been kept awake for the last twelve hours, going over time-travel theorems. It's not me, that guy gets fricken obsessed!" 

Willow smirked. "This from the guy who fell in love with titanic for six moths?" she asked. "You never stopped talking about it." 

"We had to watch it with you a hundred times," Buffy added, "and every time, you'd yell at the screen, 'no, don't throw it in reverse! It'll only make it worse'!" 

Xander scoffed self-consciously, "Well, if they'd just hit the iceberg dead on, they would've totally smashed it!" 

The three walked onward down the dirt trail that lead to the school from the lodge, while all around them, the in-training slayers filed out of their cabin's toward the school. Buffy, Willow, and Xander found themselves strolling by a half completed wooden archway -- part of a fence frame that the Wolfram & Hart construction crew were busy building that very minute. 

Xander looked up at the frame irefully. "Am I the only one who's not a hundred percent about that?" he asked. 

Buffy and Willow replied, "Uh-huh," to that in unison. 

"The construction is a joke, the frame is flimsy. Those wolvens are gonna bust through it like the Kool-Aid man through a brick wall." 

"You're not just saying that 'cause the construction crew made fun of you?" Buffy asked. 

"Please, when am I that petty -- rhetorically. I'm only saying we should keep the banishment wall up, just in case." 

"Yeah," Willow agreed, "but if the wolvens breech the shield again, the fence'll be all we've got." 

"In the meantime, we've a real construction worker right on the premises, yet Electric Mayhem is building our last line of defense. It has a real homey feel with the barbed wire at the top." 

Buffy chuckled to herself. "It'd make Faith feel right at home." 

"Can you not do that!" Willow griped. "No more Faith bashing! It's no fair, and it's making me tense." 

"Sorry, stress!" Buffy claimed defensively. "Stress of all kinds! It's just so oogey right now, everything is. I always feel fidgety, on guard." Buffy sighed deeply. "Why can't things just go back to being moderate-difficult? I mean, I actually _miss_ high school, despite common sense. I knew I could handle it. It all seemed simpler than this, even at it's worst." 

"Damn progress," Xander muttered. "I think we need time and a half off. Can I get a 'whoop-whoop'?" 

"Big yes, to time off," Buffy agreed. "And no to the 'whoop-whoop'." 

"What, lame?" 

"Yeah, and it kinda dates us. I'm not up to feeling my age right now." 

DOWN-TOWN MEADOWBROOK - THE ROLLBAR - NIGHT 

A night club called the "Roll Bar" was the only refuge in Meadowbrook from country music. It was dark, crowded and noisy, with bars at either end. A kick-ass techno band held forth on stage, blasting the kind of music that would cause major moshing in a rowdier crowd. Hometown teens seemed to claim this hangout as their own, spending endless hours under the primary-colored lights, dancing and listening to local and touring bands, the juke box, and occasionally, a volunteer D.J. 

And with all the other jumping, thrashsome dancers, Buffy head banged along with the best of them, getting her mojo up to full party mode. She'd long since taken her hair down and shed her jacket, revealing her black crew neck tank with the zodiac symbol for "Capricorn" studded across the front. 

Meanwhile, at one of the tables near the dance floor, Robin, Dawn, Willow and Xander watched on as Buffy spazzed out. Willow Dawn exchanged looks of worry over the display. "I think you broke her," Dawn said. 

"Huh, not me!" Willow squeaked defensively. "She's been ready to blow all month. Look at the dancing -- Willow didn't do that. Xander, _tell her_." 

"It's discrimination!" Xander snapped. 

Willow frowned. "Off topic, but good that you're in the conversation." 

"Hello, look at the band?" he pressed on. 

"Look at what?" 

"At the 'me-not-being-able-to-look-at-the-band'ness? This place discriminates against the uni-eyed with it's table placement. I paid the four dollar cover, and all I have to show for it is a crick in my neck and a pupil fulla juke box." 

"I'm still kinda worried about leaving Kennedy home again," Willow said to Dawn, not paying mind to Xander's rant. "But I really wasn't sure if she'd have that much fun with us." 

"Forget about it," Robin said glumly, nursing a beer. "If you really wanted to be with her, then you'd be with her. 'Stead of leaving her alone." He cast a deriding glare around the room. "With nothing to do but get wasted." 

The others stared back at Robin, almost fearfully. "Where did he get that beer?" Dawn asked. "We haven't even ordered our drinks yet." 

"I think he snuck it in," Xander answered, absent-mindedly, "can someone _describe_ the band?" 

Willow and Dawn looked back to the dance floor. Buffy was definitely too into the music now. Her arms were all over the place, and one might hear her shout over the music, "Yeah, kick it! Crank it up! Wooo!" She broke off from the dancing and headed back over to the table with her friends. "You guys should come dance!" Buffy told them. "The band is great!" 

"Yes, you like the band," Dawn said wryly, "we **get it**." 

"_Eye_ wouldn't know," Xander said. "What with the one eye, I can't see the band, and music means squat without the visual. I think the interior designer of this place was prejudice against people with one-to-no eyes. 

Buffy looked at him, and then at the others with a blank, insouciant expression. "I dunno!" she said happily. "You guys wanna drink? On me, for I am Dr. Pepper-bound." 

Willow shook her head, as did Xander. "Shot of bourbon," Robin answered. 

"Ooh," Dawn piped up, "I'll have the same." Buffy arched a brow a Dawn critically. "Not the bourbon," Mr. Pepper?" 

Buffy nodded and set out for the bar. Standing in the general area you'd find a bar tender was young, wispy brunet girl. Eighteen-ish, very pretty, but garden variety, non-authentic goth. Buffy approached her warily. "Uh...two Dr. Peppers, sans ice, and a shot of bourbon," she said. 

The girl swiftly set about putting out two glasses, which she quickly filled with Dr. Pepper, but when it came time to bring up the bourbon, she seemed to have a bit more trouble. After a moment of browsing under the counter, she brought up a tumbler and a bottle of vodka, and filled the glass to the top, almost spilling. She opened a can of A&W and gingerly poured just a drop of root beer in it. 

Buffy smirked at her glibly. "You almost have me going 'til the bourbon. Nice try, though." 

The girl smiled, embarrassed. "I saw the bartender leave and came over to snag a free soda, but then people started ordering drinks and stuff, and I didn't know what else to do." She extended a hand over the counter. "I'm Haley." 

Buffy took her hand and sat down at the bar happily, still bouncing to the music. "Buffy Summers. I get the lack of guilt on your part, but you should probably get out of there, before you get in serious trouble." Buffy cast a look back over her shoulder to the band, obviously distracted. 

Haley gave Buffy a shrewd, sideways glance. "You like that band?" she asked casually. 

Buffy turned back around, still bubbly. "Huh? Oh -- yeah." 

"They're cool," Haley agreed, and then yelled at the band, "_You suck!_" She shook her head dismissively at Buffy. "I love these guys, I just give 'em hell 'cause it goes with the scene." 

"Yeah, I like these guys, too. They remind me of Seven Mary Three." Haley gave that a pitying look. Buffy realized how dating her reference might be to a teenager. "I love you pants," she went on quickly. "Boot cut?" 

"They're flares," Haley chuckled, uncomfortably. 

Just then, Dawn walked up to the bar behind Buffy. "That's what I meant," Buffy saved, "'flares.'" 

"Hey," Dawn whined at Buffy jokingly, "how long does it take to push the 'Pepper' button?" 

"Sorry," Buffy said with a wince. "I just got caught up talking to...Haley?" 

Haley nodded helpfully. "Buffy's real cool," she said to Dawn. "Not every mom who would make time to hang out with her daughter, let alone at a club." 

Buffy's face went blank at that, and Dawn gave her a sympathetic look. "You should probably bring Robin his drink," she said, attempting a normal tone. 

Buffy grabbed her drink and Robin's and turned away from the bar. "Yeah, Buffy go now," she agreed, obviously wigged at the unintentional insult. 

Dawn turned back to Haley as Buffy shuffled away. "I'm Dawn," sliding the Dr. Pepper closer. 

"I'm still Haley," Haley said. She grinned mischievously and held up the half-empty bottle of vodka, give it a decided shake. "You want a bourbon?" 

SCENE TWO

MEADOWBROOK WOODS - NIGHT

The quiet chirping of crickets was broken by the sound of scrambling in the brush beyond Summerland Academy. Any passer-by might have mistaken it for a startled animal, perhaps a deer by the weight bearing down on the dry cracking of twigs and dried leaves; but if they'd looked closer, it would've been obvious that it was no deer, though the creature looked just as startled, it was far more dangerous. 

A figure emerged from the coppice, rumbling a low growl of warning to anyone or anything he might encounter. Spike was unsure of where he was and he shifted golden eyes around the terrain, scanning his new surroundings for anything that might clue him into what had happened. All he knew for sure was that he was back and not by accident, though he was a bit hazy on the details.

Spike made his way through the mass of trees, his motorcycle boots almost made a sound this time. He regained his footing and he moved though the brush toward a clearing where the undergrowth became less dense and finally gave way to suburbia. 

The dim glow of streetlights lit the shadowed blacktop road as Spike stepped out of the canopy of trees into what appeared to be a park of sorts. The neighborhood seemed sheltered and friendly, the houses painted vibrant shades of pastel blue and yellow with a basketball hoop in every driveway. Passing a wrought iron bench Spike felt something brush against his shoulder and upon turning his head he saw a girl in a pink sweater wander past him. 

"Ey," he snapped, "Watch---it?" 

The girl didn't take any notice of him. Her eyes seemed glazed and fixed on something ahead of her. Spike's head tilted to the side like a dog listening to a whistle only he could hear. Curiously he tried to follow the girl's gaze but whatever she was watching wasn't something he could see. He moved to grab a hold of her shoulder and he stopped his hand in midair as what appeared to be an enormous werewolf-like creature snuffed past him, the back flap of his leather duster passing over the lycanthrope's pelt. 

Spike took a step back to see that the girl and the wolf-y thing were not alone, but were two in a small migration of townspeople and wolves. They all seemed to be moving in mass in the same direction as if pulled toward the same thing. Spike stood stunned for a moment before another of the monstrous things loped past him grazing against his leg. 

The vampire took another step back out of its way and whispered, "Bloody hell." 

SCENE THREE

MEADOWBROOK - THE ROLL BAR NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

"Listen to 'em." Xander complained, still trying to peer around the obstruction that blocked his view of the band, "They are so not with the catchiness – I am uncaught." He lifted a clear plastic cup of Pepsi off of the table and to his lips, stopping short before it reached his mouth, "It's just that this is the worst version of _Light My Fire_ since the invention of matches."

Willow's brow rose to a sarcastic arch over soft, sleepy eyes, "Because you're so the Jim Morrison junkie?"

"Hey, I could be a Morrison fan." Xander retorted dryly but quickly caved, "Okay, not so much. But still, this opens my one _weird_ eye to The Doors. Suddenly they glow with a newfound glowyness."

"Well, I like it - I'm excited even, I _**love**_ Shirtlifter." Willow grinned broadly, stirring her drink with a yellow plastic stir stick that was topped by a little clear plastic pineapple, "Sure...I don't _exactly_ know what he's saying but it's definitely danceable."

Xander shrugged, "I stand by my angry and unreasonable statement."

"Xander.." Willow sighed, "if you can't see why don't we just move to another table?"

"It's the principle of the thing!" He grunted, shaking an unconvincing fist at the wooden beam that stood between him and the stage, "I should be able to see the band, it's my right as an American."

"Didn't you renounce your citizenship when they cancelled Baywatch?"

"Yeah but I'm back." Xander grinned like a game show host, "Aren't you glad to see me?"

Willow looked Xander over with concern, "How many Pepsi's did you have?"

"I plead the fifth. _American_, remember?"

Willow shook her head and turned to look out to the crowd, worry etching on her features. She could see Buffy slithering through the packs of bodies that stood between them and the bar.

Buffy slipped past a couple that were grinding with purpose and her eyes widened in surprise. She finally made it to the small, circled table where Willow was sitting with Xander and Robin. Buffy passed a broad smile around the table, setting down one of the two drinks that hadn't been screwed up by Haley.

"And she's back from the bar." Buffy announced, taking a seat across form Willow, who'd been eyeing her worriedly. Buffy averted her eyes and turned an apologetic glance toward Robin, "Sorry, barkeepie didn't really get the whole 'make a drink that's drinkable' idea."

"It's fine, thanks anyway Buffy." Robin got to his feet, leaving his jacket on the back of his chair , "Think I'll go try and squeeze a drop of gin out of the bar anyway. Let me know if Faith ever shows up?" Willow nodded in response to his question and then watched him go sympathetically as he began to walk off in the direction Buffy had just come from.

Buffy pulled a yellow tiki stir stick out of a glass coconut that sat as the centerpiece of the table, and used it to try and sink the cherry in her Dr. Pepper to the bottom of the glass, making little drowning noises as it blurred beneath the ice. She chuckled to herself and let the cherry resurface only to scoop it out with her fingertips and pop it into her mouth, raising her eye line back up to Willow, who's eyes were fixed over Buffy's shoulder. Buffy slurred past her cherry, "What are we looking at?"

"Hmm?" Willow responded with soft distraction, looking past her friend. Buffy followed her gaze to Robin who was sitting on a tall stool , his head resting on his balled up fist that was the only thing propping it off the bar. After what seemed like an eternity he stood, tipping a bit as he lifted himself from the stool and headed back towards the only people in the room that were familiar.

"It's so sad...I mean the way Faith treats him. He looks so ...depressed." Willow sighed, tapping her straw around in her ice-filled cup with a sort of distracted pout that had, in recent years, become a trademark of hers. Xander turned to face them and leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah, wouldn't rule that out of the realm of possibilities. She's not exactly the queen of monogamy." Xander agreed as Robin found his seat again, moving it to keep a person worth of space between himself and the others.

Willow took a quiet sip of her coke through the purple straw she had to pay extra for, "Really slick, did you take over for Giles as Tact Guy?" 

"Nah. Then I'd have to kill Giles, and if I kill Giles I'll have to blow my savings on an old time-y cover up." Xander laughed to himself but got no response from Buffy and Willow. "Get it? Guys, remember funny? Haha? Laugh?" 

Willow shook her head, "Sorry, I have stuff on the brain. Big time stuff." 

"Still Kennedy stuff?" Asked Robin, running a bored fingertip around the rim of his glass.

"Didn't we cover this?" Willow asked as looked over at Robin, who was expressionlessly filling his shot glass for the third time. She gave him a sympathetic but momentary stare, "I'm guessing Faith was a no show again, huh?"

Robin didn't bother to look away from the bottle in front of him, "What a surprise."

"It doesn't mean anything." Buffy tried to intervene with some semblance of reasoning, "Faith's never been good with ..."

"Commitment?" Robin cut Buffy off with what seemed to be the obvious.

"Actually I was gonna say punctuality. Always missing appointments, training.." Buffy smiled a bit with nervous concern as she watched Robin down another shot, "You know what I mean. It's not like she's blowing you off...." her eyes widened a bit and she amended, "What I mean is she probably just forgot. You know Faith, she's like that one Muppet with the cowboy hat." 

Xander casually fixed his eye patch to lay properly. "Forgetful Jones?" he offered, reaching to pull a packet of sugar out of the sugar caddy.

"Hey, it was a long time ago!" Buffy retorted, "I can't even remember the names of half of my friends from my Sesame Street days."

"Actually," Willow reluctantly corrected, "That was the Muppet's name. Forgetful Jones."

"_Oh_." Buffy looked around at her friends, "I knew that."

As Xander gave Buffy a consoling pat on the shoulder, Willow watched Robin move to down another shot. She reached out and laid her hand on his wrist, stopping him momentarily from raising the shot glass to his lips, "I hate to poop the party, but I think you've had enough..."

A reprimanding voice seconded Willow from behind Buffy. "I'm inclined agree." The group turned to see Mirella, who'd come in clutching her bag as if it were in danger from purse nappers, now stood before them.

"We agree?" Willow thinned her lips and raised her hand to ear level, "Can I retract my statement?"

Willow's question was ignored by the group, whom all seemed to focus on Mirella. For once she didn't have Marcus and Onslow in tow to back her up. She folded her slender arms, not in any way compromising her posture, and continued sarcastically, "Patrolling, are we? And just _look_ at all the dust. My, Miss Summers, you _have_ been a busy thing."

"I patrolled..." Buffy covered with a sort of innocent ditz look, "and then I came here. To...sit." She shook her head, "See, I keep forgetting that I don't have to explain anything to you. I work hard, I was tired, I needed a break. I was driving myself at Cranky Slayer pace! "

Arms still crossed, Mirella cast a frustrated glance at the ceiling, her hands gripping her upper arms. "You know, _Buffy_, I've had the pleasure of going over many a report of your progress. I've read the pages and pages outlining your work and ethical habits verses that of Faith and, I must admit, I assumed you to be the better slayer. Faster, stronger, more dedicated - or so said every word, every sheet of paper I'd read. But words on a page can be deceiving, and I hadn't expected to find you taking sabbatical as you please while Faith, your junior and a wanted criminal on top of that, is hard at work."

"Hard at work?" Robin and Buffy accidentally mumbled in unison, both suddenly very interested in what the Watcher had to say. 

Mirella glanced around the table with a thin line of confusion creasing in her forehead, "Yes, work. I assume you've heard of it? She's been training with Mr. Giles on the docks since, oh I don't know, sometime yesterday morning." 

Buffy's eyes widened a bit as she exchanged glances with Willow. "Without a break?" She asked with a note of concern in her voice.

"Of course.." Mirella started, but stopped herself with a wince, covering both ears with her palms. **_Light My Fire_** became warped and hard to hear as **_Order of Lonely Hearts_** started to blast from the jukebox. She joined in with the rest of the nightclub as they stared toward the corner of the room by the bar.

Marcus was leaning heavily against the jukebox, a broad and toothy smile across his face. He was pathetically trying his best to seduce to a teenage girl who looked politely disgusted by him. "So," he winked at the girl, not paying any attention to the _boo_'s or paper cups being thrown at him from the club goers, "Sam, is it?" 

"Y-yeah..." Sam fidgeted nervously, "Hey listen, I gotta go...my dad's waiting for me..."

"Oh, come now, I'm sure you can make something up..." The Watcher beamed casually at the girl who desperately looked for an escape from him. Marcus opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, a startled mouse-like squeak escaped his lips and he jumped a bit as a hand gripped his shoulder without warning. The girl Marcus had been hitting on gratefully made her getaway into the crowded dance floor as soon as Marcus turned to see Onslow, shaking slightly and looking about the room. "Barrie, I thought I told you to stay in the car?"

"Well," Onslow began, holding his precious briefcase beneath one arm, his free hand crossing in front of him to clutch the handle, "I told you I might not. There were....street toughs of some sort. Women. Scary, scary women. I couldn't bring myself to stay another m-moment, even with all the window rolled to the top and all the door locks pushed down. Besides that it was Mirella who instructed me to stay in the car. She instructed you to do the same, and yet you left me stranded with...with.."

Marcus sighed and patted Onslow on the shoulder, "Street toughs, I know. C'mon, Boy, I'll buy you a drink."

Mirella turned away from Marcus' direction as the annoyed groans and jeers from the crowd began to subside. She unfolded her arms and rested her hands on the table, leaning in closer to Buffy, "The point of this conversation is that you are shirking your duties as Slayer. You're the oldest, Buffy, the oldest living Slayer. The other girls, even Faith, are in your charge."

"Since when is Faith my responsibility?" Buffy snorted angrily.

Mirella smiled sheepishly and stood back up at full height. "So sayeth Cain."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Miss Summers." The Watcher straightened the boiled and starched white shirt cuffs that peeked out from beneath her pinstriped blazer, "Except, of course, that if you'd taken a little more care with Faith in her initial fragile state, she might have avoided her transgressions altogether. Something to ponder." 

Fuming, Buffy slowly rose to her feet, her eyes trained on Mirella's. "And exactly how do you know? You guys have been here all of, what, a week? Week and a half? And now you're the expert on all things Buffy and Faith? How **_dare_** you blame me for the path Faith chose? She did it all by herself, she didn't need me to help her mess up her life along with everybody else's. I _tried_ to help her! I put myself on the line and she threw it back in my face. What Faith needs isn't me holding her hand, she needs serious mental help."

"Buff..." Xander spoke up only to be hushed by Buffy's palm practically in his face. He put his hands up defensively, "Oookay."

"You forget your place, Miss." Mirella's tone became threatening, "Like it or not I _am_ a Watcher, and as such I've council over you and your charges." 

"Again, since a week ago." Buffy pointed out harshly, "You **don't** get it - you don't have any say here. And the Council? Poof. You're only still breathing because Giles hasn't given the kill command yet."

"That's it." Robin shook his head and got out of his seat. He walked around the table to Mirella and wrapped his hand around her upper arm, forcefully walking her towards the door, "It's time to go."

"Oh..oh dear Lord..." Mirella gritted her teeth but didn't struggle for fear of making a scene. Robin gave her a shove out the door and then headed towards Marcus, who quickly reached out and grabbed Onslow's arm and herded him towards the door without Robin's 'help'. Robin's mouth stretched into a satisfied smirk and he headed back towards the table, while outside the Watchers walked towards their car.

"Of all the nerve." Mirella groused as she walked, searching her purse for her car keys. "And to top it all off I think that little guttersnipe threatened me."

Onslow reached the car first and looked around nervously and Marcus started to pull on the passenger side car door handle impatiently.

"What difference does it make? Brute boy won't let us near Faith so we have to concentrate on Buffy." Marcus sighed as Mirella unlocked the car. "We just have to back up a little, re-think all of this Slayer nonsense." They slipped into the car one by one and the car began to pull out of it's parking space.

As the car left the alleyway next to the Roll Bar's entrance, it passed two teenage girls walking by themselves. One girl was slight and tan, with long blonde hair and an overbite. The other was tall and chubby, with dark hair and eyes. She wore a black dress and walked out in front of her friend, staring unresponsively and blankly ahead.

"Britt? Look, I know you're mad at me but this Stepford thing isn't funny anymore!" Said the blonde girl, the tone of her voice was shrill and pleading. "If you're not gonna answer me I'm going home. Did you hear me? Britt?"

Britt didn't respond, but instead walked towards the end of the alley. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, the blonde girl's eyes fixed forward and she stopped speaking completely. She quietly followed Britt for a few moments before being grabbed by a pale, slender hand that darted out of the alley's shadows. The hand pulled the girl into the darkness and a distant gurgle-chewing sound could be heard. After a few moments a figure stepped out of the shadows. A pale woman, tall and thin, her long black hair swept back into a curly ponytail at the base of her neck and her face was vamped and easily recognizable.

Drusilla grinned dreamily and wiped the blood off of her bottom lip with the back of her hand, then winced as she heard a loud belching from behind her. Sheila came stumbling out of the darkness, dropping the blonde girl she'd picked up after Drusilla had discarded the body.

Sheila belched again, annoyingly, and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "Can I have the other one?"

SCENE FOUR

SUBURBAN WOODWARD PARK ROAD - NIGHT 

Mirella Bartlett's U.K. addition black, three-door Volkswagen "Polo" coasted down an additional road, softly hugging the woods just beyond the shoulder. The car's headlights illuminated the way between streetlights, which were few and far between in Meadowbrook. Mirella sat behind the wheel of the Polo on the right side, hands at 10 and 2, stewing in bitter disbelief. To her left in the passenger seat was Marcus, how had the window down and one elbow out, drumming his hand on the door to non-existent music. Buckled-up in the backseat, Onslow was leaning back to avoid the rushing country air that poured in through the window as though it was the plague. He cast a look to his suitcase in the seat beside him, buckled in safely like a passenger; Onslow smiled a little grateful smile at that. 

Mirella's hair was slightly blown in her face by the incoming wind. "I don't understand how that girl can be so flippant," she muttered to herself. "It's as if she hasn't any sense of duty...." Her hair was beginning to fall in front of her eyes; Mirella put her glassed up to act as a headband and let her eyes wander for a moment toward the center console tray, where a Apocalyptica CD lay. "...Infuriating. You'd think Faith would be the handful, but _no_-." Reaching for the CD, she trailed off, twittering to herself. 

Marcus sneered. "Mirella, the road," he drawled, more annoyed than concerned. 

She looked up, swearing, "Jesus!" and anxiously spun the wheel, hard over, to miss the pedestrian. Marcus' head smacked against the door frame and Onslow put a hand out to secure his briefcase, rather affected by the situation. As they came out of the turn, Mirella had to swerve again to narrowly miss a young man standing in the street. They came out of the swerve; now the car was on the other side of the road facing the opposite direction. 

"Perfect," Marcus groused, rubbing his head, "now I'm going to have a knot on this side. 

Mirella gawked at his insensitivity -- her glasses slipped down from her head in front of her face. She put them on squarely and glanced back at the road, just in time to catch a glimpse of the first man she nearly hit, who was now illuminated by the Polo's headlights. Anyone who knew him would've recognized him immediately: it was Spike, still very vamped-out. He turned and continued wandering, shaking his head in confusion. Mirella's eye's widened. "Vampires," she gasped to herself breathlessly. 

"You're crazy," Marcus snorted dismissively, fiddling with the radio console. "Does this get F.M, or doesn't it?" 

"Where are vampires?" Onslow asked in a small voice. He reached up and hit the button to roll up Marcus' window, and got an eyeful of the several dozen teenagers outside the car, milling about aimlessly as zombies in the street, all still somehow coming around to the same direction. 

The teens were crowding down the street with blank expressions, around cars and lampposts, either barely avoiding them or not at all, as though they were blind. Spike watched them from the relative darkness of the sidewalk he was stalking down, trying to feign apathy at the near collision. He sniffed, squaring his shoulders, and stopped. Inhaling again, deliberately this time, he felt a reminiscent smell permeate his senses. An impish smirk tugged at his lips and he did a three-sixty, rushing headlong back to the last block he'd passed. 

As Spike rounded the corner of "Cabot and Rose", the sound of a struggle became evident. He kept his distance, keeping in shadow, as he caught sight of the massacre in progress. His yellow, slitted eyes were awash with reverent nostalgia and he stood there, like Jimmy Stewart in "It's a Wonderful Life". 

The hypnotized teens continued to wander past him and a consortium of blithe vampires were picking them off like grapes from the vine. Among the feasting vamps was Sheila. Her dark hair had grown and the style had changed slightly, but otherwise, she looked exactly the same as she had the night she died, right down to the dated, Bad Girl outfit (committing to a look, as vampires often do). After registering her appearance, Spike ignored her. He was more interested a gaunt, matronly figure, turning one of the vacant young men to face her. The boy was in the clutches of Drusilla, already wearing her demon visage. 

She embraced the boy roughly, bit down and tasted, but too quickly dropped him, letting his indifferent body crumple to the ground at her feet. She wiped the corner of her mouth, somewhat amused. "All crawling like rats to the valley," she said thoughtfully, musing over his form. "First sip is always the best." 

Sheila dropped her handsome kill in a heap on the ground and jammed her fists into his pockets as the other vampires. "No chase," she murmured to Dru. "What's the fun when you're shooting fish in a barrel? I dunno about you, but I'm lookin' for a fight." 

Dru sneered at Sheila, sashayed up to her, and backhanded her hard across the nose. "**Found one**," Dru snarled disparagingly. "Where do we look a pretty gift horse, _my pet_?" 

"Alright!" Sheila consented, holding her face and glaring. "God, I was just saying...." 

Making his mind up, Spike moved out of the shadows he lurked in towards Drusilla, just to creep back when he caught sight of Kennedy hobbling down the street with the wandering youths. Spike froze, watching the her and a few other veteran slayers walk past him. He glanced over at Drusilla once more before growling regretfully sinking back into a nearby alley. 

As the slayers past Drusilla, she pulled one aside and chowed down, her eyes following the advancement of the girls. They moved with the other youths with steady progression into the woods. Kennedy disappeared into the forest with the rest of them. 

The path she took was littered with leaves and narrowed suddenly, twisting and angling past the brush until it became very steep and almost non-existent, but the group of kids trekked on a very precise route, as if they were being pulled by an invisible thread. A boy far ahead of Kennedy moved aside a thicket of bushes to reveal the entrance to a cave. He held it aside the others entered, including Kennedy, before he slipped in after them. 

The mouth of the cave opened to reveal an astounding number of the citizens of Meadowbrook, all digging diligently, excluding a couple of families, cowboy-types, and the sheriff's deputy. Kennedy, Vi, and a few of the slayers picked up various sledge hammers and pick axes. Reagan and Rona broke from the group, stepping forward and taking shovels that were handed to them by the people who came before them. A grotesque creature loomed behind them. 

The creature was over seven feet tall and appeared to be a combination of hanging mud and flesh. The two apparent parts of the mixture were not only clumped and dried together but also released a musty, wet, and rotten smell. The noxious odor was probably the only thing worse than its appearance in general. This was obviously the foreman of the construction in progress. 

The unstable monster surveyed their work and hissed at them in a deep, almost animal voice, _"¡Usted debe trabajar más rápido! La efigie es cercana al alcance de la mano y debe ser desenterrada. **¡Cave!"**_

SCENE FIVE

Mirella looked over her pita pocket lunch with an unappetized grimace as she sat cross legged on a research desk by the staircase, watching Marcus pace around franticly, "I'm telling you, Jonesy, that was a vampire. And who knows how many of the youth wandering around in the middle of traffic last night were also undead?"

"Mirella, listen to what you're saying. A vampire? In Meadowbrook? You know as well as I do that there's been no vampiric activity in Nevada County since the 1980's." Marcus folded his arms, stepping closer to Mirella. He glanced over his shoulder at Onslow, who was sitting with Xander across the room pouring over a book, and whispered to Mirella, "The Firm wouldn't have built Summerland here if there were vampires."

"That doesn't change what I saw. I know you saw it too." Mirella sighed, "And worst of all, Barrie saw it."

"What if you're wrong? What if _we're_ wrong?" Marcus sat next to Mirella on the table and pulled a carrot shaving out of her pita pocket, popping it into his mouth with a sigh. "Or what if there was **one** vampire? Who's to say the others are any threat at all?" 

"Marcus..." Mirella looked over at Marcus with a soft yet painful stare, "They were all twenty or younger....all of them. Walking right in the middle of the road as if they had no care for their own well being."

"Yes...yes I know." Marcus nodded with defeat. He shook his head, about to stand back up when he noticed Mirella's choice in clothing, "A skirt? I didn't know you even owned ladies clothing."

"Stop it." Mirella threatened softly, but Marcus continued to tease her with a casual smirk, suddenly seeming a little too at ease with the situation at hand.

"Fine, see? I've stopped. It's just not entirely in your style is what I'm trying to point out." He shrugged out of his blazer and got to his feet, slinging it over his shoulder, "I suppose this is for Mr. Giles benefit, isn't it?"

"Didn't I tell you to stop it? I have no qualms with using brute force if need be." She warned, standing as well, her hands finding and resting on her hips. "We have a very serious situation to concentrate on."

Marcus put his hands up defensively.

Across the room, Onslow turned a page in the comic book-thin guide to Meadowbrook's occult history, which seemed to be less than minimal. He lifted his eyes from the page slightly and eyed the two other Watchers suspiciously before going back to the book, "Miss Bartlet mentioned that the vampire she claims to have seen was...n-not alone."

"What's that mean?" Xander mumbled past the large chunk of apple in his mouth, "Not alone?"

"What Barrie is saying," Marcus walked the length of the room to where Xander and Onslow sat, leaning over to steal one of Xander's pretzels. "Is that there might have been other vampires. There were others in the street last night, an assembly of youth with..er..nerves of steel. Usual vampire garb - dark clothing, dark make up. The word _'Punk'_ springs to mind."

"Well," Onslow stood and stepped away from the table, taking the book with him and placing it back onto it's appropriate shelf, "We must do something. If there _is_ o-one vampire, there's bound to be more. Travel in swarms, you know."

Xander took another bite of his apple, slapping Marcus' hand away from his hot pocket, "I'd say this is a job for the Slayer but Buff's been AWOL." 

"Then I'd s-suggest employing Miss Girard until Miss Summers regains her composure." Onslow mentioned as he searched through other Meadowbrook titles on the shelf.

Xander looked up from his book to meet eyes with Onslow, looking more than mildly confused, "Miss Girard?" 

"Eh, yes." Onslow pulled a book from the shelf and opened it up, quickly thumbing through it only to push it back into place again and pull out another one, "Faith?"

"Faith has a last name?" Xander shook the confusion out of his head and blinked, finishing up his lunch. "I mean, I knew that. And yeah, get her _if_ you can find her. Buffy and Faith, both gone. I say steamy Slayer bonding. Or possibly just a good old fashioned government conspiracy."

Mirella arched a brow, not used to Xander's sarcasm "Conspiracy? To what purpose?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's aliens." He replied almost seriously, leaving what he hadn't eaten sitting on top of his paper lunch sack. "All conspiracies are alien-related."

A nervous chuckle escaped Onslow's lips as he turned to look back at Xander, "That _is_ a bit of a stretch."

"He's razzing you, Barrie." Mirella leaned to reach into the pocket of her coat that neatly hung from the back of a chair, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and silver butane lighter with what appeared to be a pyramid engraved onto the side. She raised the cigarette to her lips and sparked the lighter, holding the flame close to the tip of her cigarette before thinking better of it and flipping the lighter closed. She quietly slipped the cigarette back into the pack then shoved both the lighter and cigarettes into the coat pocket she'd just taken them from. "Don't any of you find this even remotely odd?"

"What's odd?" Xander asked with an alarming complacently that seemed to have infected everyone in the room except for Mirella. Marcus sat next to him and swiping scraps of his lunch and giving Mirella an equally questioning look.

Mirella looked around the room at the three men, wide-eyed with disbelief. "There are two senior Slayers missing and none of you are concerned in the least?"

"Three." The sound of another voice made the everyone in the room turn to see Willow standing in the library doorway in mud stained Hello Kitty pajamas, clutching her coat with both hands. A look of desperate fear in her eyes. "Kennedy's...gone..."

Onslow offered a oddly indifferent shrug and brought a random periodical from one of the magazine racks over to where Marcus and Xander sat, and opened it up. Xander and Marcus looked interestedly over his shoulder as he turned it's pages, Xander giving a careless wave to Willow as he read.

Mirella walked towards Willow and took her arm, leading her as comfortingly as possible towards a chair and helping her sit, "Missing?"

Willow shivered as she sat down in Mirella's desk chair, as if there were a chill in the room. "Yeah and not in the '_I'm mad at you so I went for a walk'_ kind of missing. Whatever took her left her wheelchair." 

Mirella sank into a chair next to Willow, trying her damndest not to be too harsh with her, "Oh dear."

Willow simply stretched her arms in front of her, her wrists resting on her knees beneath the desk and her eyes unfocused a bleary, staring at the neat stacks of papers on the desktop. 

"Well that's it, then. Something is _**wrong**_ and for one reason or another it doesn't effect everyone, though we seem to be the only two of our associates who haven't been affected to this point." Mirella observed, getting to her feet with determination. She turned her computer monitor on, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear compulsively. "Can you manage a computer Miss Rosenberg?"

Willow looked up at Mirella for the first time since she'd walked in, "Let's pretend Willow's not crazy with grief and wold-endy fear? Yeah sure."

"Good." That Watcher crossed the room to a cabinet that's style and color stood out amongst the blonde and oak furniture native to the library. It was armoire sized with small, square silver knobs who's faces were adorned with what seemed to be mother of pearl. The wood was dark stained cherry and sculpted into smooth, round molding, both sides sported fire-branded impressions of a faint circle surrounding an even harder to see triangle with the initials _M.B._ finely engraved into the center and the top of the case was fitted with a handsome leather strap handle for easy transport. Mirella reached into her pocket and produced a small silver key she used to carefully unlock the doors and draw them open. From inside the cabinet she pulled a large stack of leather-bound books then lifted her eyes without moving her head to catch Willow's gaze with a borderline evil smile, "I'd say it's time we took matters into our own hands."

SCENE SIX

NEVADA COUNTY WOODS - NIGHT 

The second wave of Meadowbrook denizens sleepwalked onward through the forests, towards their work in the caverns. Over the uneven forest trails, past oaks and maples, Buffy led the crowd. She was also apparently leading a swarm of hungry vampires, practically drooling with anticipation -- none of them feeding. Deftly, Buffy was suddenly flanked by Sheila and Dru. 

Drusilla was glaring at Buffy with contempt, her eyes flashing with cunning mania. "Ashes, ashes," she whispered to herself brightly, "...all falling down." 

Sheila frowned, falling in step. "So, we're _not_ eating the slayer yet?" 

Drusilla's face went dead, she rocked her head to the side and gazed oddly Sheila. "Don't speak again." 

SCENE SEVEN

SUMMERLAND LIBRARY - NIGHT 

Xander was nearly through making coffee at the kitchenette in Giles office while Mirella and Willow did what they could to research local demons. Mirella sat a work station near the windows, lazily flipping through one of the watcher's tomes. She propped her head up on one hand, doing her best not to let her eyes wander. Not far from her at one of the computer tables, Willow was running through every search engine she could think of. "This is pointless," she sighed. "There's too many results for the symptoms and no way to narrow the search." 

Mirella lazily left her chair and walked up beside Willow. "May I?" she asked, but didn't wait for a response before she deftly typed in and address. A name and password request popped up, Mirella typed her name in, along with an asterisked password, and a green and black account page came up. 

"The Council Database?" Willow asked. 

"You can research and recorded history of demonic activity in Nevada County here." 

Willow goggled at the page. "Is that the symbol for the Illuminati?" 

Mirella looked at Willow from the corner of her eye. "It's an old symbol, associated-." 

Willow scowled at Mirella and went to her accounts favorites page. "You've got a link to the Illuminati site, right there!" 

Mirella sneered, took the mouse, and clicked the "Sign Out" button. "Fine, then," she snarled, straightening up and heading back to her book. "You can fly solo." 

Willow scoffed and started trying to break into the user directory for the database. 

"And don't even try to hack into the site," Mirella drawled. "You'll never get past the guard." 

"I'm not even doing that," Willow said. Without warning, Willow's monitor screen blinked red twice, then the computer shut itself down. Willow fussed with each power button and switch on the tower -- the computer remained down. 

She glanced over at Mirella, who'd been grinning at her smugly, waiting for her to give up. "Having a problem?" Mirella asked. 

Willow turned her self toward Mirella angrily. "Will you stop doing that!?" she shouted. 

Mirella raised her brows in exaggeratedly innocent surprise. "Doing what?" 

"You know what you did, you're doing it now! I don't know about anybody else here, but I didn't ask to start a vendetta with you-." 

"That was me," Xander said, coming back into the library with a cup of coffee. He sat back to read his book while Willow rolled his eyes at his unhelpful response. "Well, I _didn't_," she went on to Mirella, "so I'd really appreciate it if we could just call a truce. People I care about could be in really serious danger." 

Mirella laid back in her chair sleepily. "Don't you think you're over-reacting?" she asked. 

"No, I think you're under-reacting-." Willow stopped talking for a minute, watching as Onslow finally returned from the stacks, disheveled. He was reading the 'Liber Magorum' volume five as he went, heading for Giles office. "How's it doing with you, ladies?" he muttered quietly. 

"Crap-Plus-Two," Willow answered. "You got anything?" 

He slipped into Giles office, right for the coffee. "I wasn't researching it," he called back to Willow, "I didn't think it was terribly important." 

Willow seethed, ringing her armrests. She switched computers and started searching her usual engines. 

In a moment, Onslow returned to the library with a Styrofoam cup of coffee. "Search with 'Hamlin'," he suggested. 

"The composer?" Xander asked. He got a confused take from Onslow. "Hamlin, Hamlin," Xander went on to Willow. "You know, that famous guy who worked with Liza Minelli.... Who am I thinking of?" 

"Marvin Hamlish," Willow replied, distracted by her search. Her results were narrowed to one, and she followed the link, pulling up a definition in a Japanese demon Lexicon. "Anybody here speak Japanese?" Willow asked. "I only know enough to sign up for web space." 

"I do," Onslow said, creeping over to Willow. He peered at the site over her shoulder thoughtfully. "...It says to see Ocato Coh'c." 

"Oh," Xander piped up, "I have that one." He flipped backward through his book until he settled on a page without an illustration. Mirella, Willow, and Onslow gathered around him. He let Willow read it aloud: 

"Let's see, _'Ocato Coh'c. A Summoner Elemental from demonic tribes indignant to the East Indies, rumors of it's victim sightings have been traced north, supposedly the demon is in search of the original effigy of Lenith, an Etruscan goddess. The effigy is thought by elementals to hold the essence of the goddess herself, who's return is prophesied to bring an end to the human-demon hybrids of the new age. Ocato Coh'c is likely to use humans to do his searching for him. The low, physically inaudible song of a Summoner Elemental calls to the unconscious human mind like a summoning spell. It has similar side affects to that of a temporal flux, causing a cerebral reality distortion, that interferes with the functions of the higher mind. Those most susceptible to such distortions seem to be those who already suffer from one or more psychoneurotic disorders. Symptoms of the reality distortion include: Complacency, unconsciously obsessive behaviors, memory lapse, somnambulism,-'_ That's definitely our guy. _'-and any other involuntary activities that manifest from psychoneurotic conflict. Symptoms become more and more noticeable as the song takes hold, making the downside of the elementals m.o. that it's not entirely convenient for the demon, seeing as most people affected become so mentally overloaded, the symptoms of the song result in an aneurysm.'_ Oh, god." She gave the book back to Xander, who began to cross check it with other volumes. 

"There's no proof of that," Mirella said, pointing to the text. "See? 'Rumors', 'Prophesies'. All speculation, they haven't even seen this thing well enough to make an illustration." 

"Because of the aneurisms," Willow argued. "The symptoms are right there; Complacency, somnabulism - I think we should find away to break the summoning spell." 

"Woah," Xander turned one of the books he was reading towards Willow and Mirella, held open to a partially unfinished engraving of Ocato Coh'c. "Slap my hand and call me Clayface."

Willow took the book from Xander and carefully ripped out the page, folding it twice and pushing it into her pocket. "We've got work to do." 

"Were better off doing reconnaissance until we know exactly what's going on." Mirella rested one hand on her hip, standing entirely still and poised in a way that was almost unnerving, "It might just be vampiric activity." 

"Alright," Willow said slyly. "We can call on Aradia for a guide and find out where everyone is. But I'll need some things for the spell," Willow took her keys from her pocket and held them out to Mirella, "could you get me the Oculus Fortunæ? It's on the bookshelf in my cabin." 

Mirella took a long, deep, _long_ sigh and shrugged. "I suppose,...have to do everything myself...." 

Willow watched Mirella leave, then got to her feet and took Xander by the arm, leading him to the stacks. "Come on, we're gonna find the 'Spiritualis' and learn how to break the spell on the slayers so they can slay." 

"Ms. Bartlet said 'reconnaissance'," Xander reminded her wearily, "and 'vampires'." Onslow agreed to that with a slight nod while sipping his coffee. 

"I know what she said," Willow told them, "but by the time we do the recon and come back, loads of people could be dead. Can you guys just help me out while Mirella's gone?" The two men shrugged, and Willow continued leading Xander to the stacks. Onslow resumed reading his book again and wandered toward the exit. "**Onslow**!" Willow shouted back at him. Without looking up from his book, Onslow made a U-turn and followed them to the stacks. 

SUMMERLAND SCHOOL HALLWAY - MEANWHILE

Out in the now shadowy hallway, Mirella had been sashaying past classrooms with her usual, showy self-importance, when she heard a squeaking sound behing her. She turned back to see Onlsow exiting the library, now sans the book and coffee, looking a bit zombie-like himself, as someone, Buffy, emerged from the teachers lounge and sleepwalked her way through the hall. She met Onlow halfway and the two exited the school. Mirella watched in mild alarm, over the seriousness of what she was seeing. But her alarm soon gave way to apathy; she shrugged it off and, forgetting what she was doing, strolled back toward the library. 

As she entered, Willow, who had been gathering materials in the stacks, sprinted out flusteredly to observe her. "Hi," she said nervously, "you're back. Real soon -- why are you back real soon?" 

Mirella looked around herself a moment, as though a knat had been buzzing around her. "I was doing something," she sighed. What was I doing?" 

Willow was mildly suprised at seeing Mirella so out of sorts. "Hey, did you see what happened to Onslow? I think I need his help, ya know, to swim through the books. That guy's like search engine with arms." 

"Barrie? Oh, he left with Ms. Summers, I saw them go outside." 

"You saw them? And you didn't think that was worth sharing?" 

"Well, I wasn't certain it was-." 

"Important? You weren't certain it was important that our only fire power just wandered out the door to Goddess knows where?" 

"Well, I'd nip out after them, but...I'm not exactly in the shoes for it...." She took a moment to admire her little black heels. 

Willow was practically hysterical with frustration. "I don't think you're getting the big picture!" she growled. "People are going to die, _my_ personal people!" 

"Oh, get a grip on yourself, girl, it's not all that-." 

"No, I'm not the one that needs gripping! The whole town's going to hell and you're worried about your stupid shoes?" 

Without thinking, Mirella took off one of her pumps and shook it at Willow as casual as some might shake a finger. "These are not just 'stupid shoes', Miss Rosenburg, these are _Shanghais_. I bought them on Collins Street, they're a year ahead of the runway, and if you think...." She trailed off, perhaps as the frivolousness of her arguement was begining to sink in. She looked at herself, gesturing with a seven-hundred dollar shoe. "That bit you said...about finding a way break the summoning spell? We should probably get on that."

Willow's face lightened. "Good, I've got everything I need up here." She retreated to the stacks and, after a moment, brang down a full Starter backpack, trying not to break into proad smile. "I think I got lucky with the local watcher tomes, so we've got ourselves a shot in the dark." She knelt down by the stairs and beckoned Mirella to join her. 

The lady watcher shook her head emphatically. "Never touch the stuff," she said, almost fearfully. "But you go on ahead." 

Willow made a sound of disgust at Mirella's cowardice and started unloading the backpack. There was bookmarked chronicle, a plain, steel platter, a large jar of something labled "crab ash", and a bundle of dried flowers from the arrangment on the book counter. "This is an 'Uncrossing'," Willow explained, pouring the ash out on the platter. "Well, that's the best translation, but locals used to do this all the time to break charms and curses. Turns out they've been dealing with demon's like Ocato Coh'c for two-hundred years now. Breaking a summoning spell is kid's stuff to them." 

Willow crumpled the flower pettles over the platter, then used one of the stems to draw what looked like a trumpet in the ash. She took up the chronicle and read calmly. "Gran Barbatos -- quien entiende el canto de pájaros, las cortezas de perros, los mugidos de toros -- nos presta el poder de liberar la mente de un guerrero, de la mordedura de esta cosa corrupta." Here and there, granuals of ash gradually became red, glowing like embers, and began to jump, shooting up all over the platter. Willow split into a silly grin, forgetting herself. "Awww, it's like a li'l magick _Jiffy Pop_!" 

SCENE EIGHT

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY - LAWNS - NIGHT

Willow slipped quietly out of the night shrouded school and onto the neatly mowed lawns. Her hands were clasped together. Mirella trudged after, her eyes darting around to the few Slayers and staff who were left in Summerland. They were dazed and weary looking. They mumbled to themselves and occasionally walked into one another on their way towards the pines in the distance.

Making her way into the middle of an open and relatively clear lawn near the lake, Willow held her hands out in front of her. She slowly opened them, pulling her palms back to reveal a small dot of softly pulsing green light. It swarmed before her, awaiting command. Willow smiled and let it circle her for a moment before making her request, "Hey there, okay here goes. I want you to lead me to Buffy, okay? _Find Buffy_."

With only the delay of sharking around Willow in a few tight circles, the Aradian sprite shot gracefully out into the darkness in front of her. She hesitated for a moment, her brows meeting in a concerned point on her forehead. Nervously, she took hold of Mirella's wrist and tugged her into motion. When Mirella gave in and reluctantly started to walk, Willow let go of her vacant companion and followed after the guide towards the forest. 

The effects of the elemental's song had begun to finally take hold of Mirella and she trudged lazily after Willow, who had taken a fast lead. She was now a few yards in front of Mirella in the dark woods, visible only by the glow that she tried so desperately to keep up with. The timber was dark and thick, humid from Nevada County's torrential weather. The pair hiked for what seemed like a mile or more, until whatever sounds still loomed at Summerland were distant and muffled by the rustled chirping of wildlife.

The forest floor began to ascend and become steeper. Willow pushed a low juniper branch aside and she began to climb. She grasped at a root that stuck jaggedly out of the moist ground ahead of her and pulled herself up, only to lose her footing and slide down the muddy slope with a grunt of frustration. She dug her fingers into the dirt and pulled herself back up the slippery earth, Mirella trailing dutifully. They scaled the rocks and mire to a channel in the rock face, not far down from the dome of the mountain where their escort glimmered patiently.

Willow pulled herself up onto the dry rock, she could hear movement and some distant voices. She laid her hands on the rock surface around a narrow opening and leaned closer to peer into it. It was dark inside, but what she could make out was a vast and empty space, as if it had been carved out like a pumpkin. She turned to look back over her shoulder to see Mirella climbing up after her and bent down to help pull her onto the small ledge. Mirella dusted herself off and walked casually away from Willow, heading after two girls that Willow recognized from her Home Economics class. Both were on a path not far from the slope that she and Mirella had climbed to get there, but she hadn't noticed them before.

"There was a trail!?" Willow hissed in a whisper and followed the small crowd around a steep ledge and into the cave. Once inside, Willow rocked onto her tip toes to see above the heads of the multitude surrounding her, her guide's light dulling as it wove itself into the crush.

She found herself being shepherded along with the others who'd just entered the cavern, startled as a woman in a housecoat thrust a pick axe into her hands. She looked up at the woman and then around to see Xander and Rhona also handing out shovels and picks to the oncoming herd of people. She approached Xander and waved a hand in front of his eyes with no response, "Xander?" She gripped the handle of the pick axe and took a few steps backward with a worried expression then shook her head, "I don't have time for this!"

Breaking away from the group, Willow started to scan the throngs of people for Buffy. Instead she found Slayers and Watchers as well town residents, city officials and Meadowbrook's Finest among the bustle; all of whom were digging out the walls of the cave. She waded through the cramping mass, moving people out of the way. Only moments passed until her guide became visible again, dipping in and out of the crowd in front of her. She smiled with relief and made her way towards it's light. She drove forward and found the guide circling over Buffy's head near the far back of the cave.

Buffy was staring determinedly at the cavern wall as she pulled a pick axe blade out of the stone only to hold the tool over her head and drive it into the wall again. She chipped away at the hollow with the others, paying no attention to Willow approaching her from behind. She hesitated for a moment then reached out and firmly laid her fingertips on Buffy's temples from behind her. She braced herself as lightening-like webs of blue static charged between her hands and Buffy as she passed on her protection spell.

Willow winced and gritted her teeth, the sheer power of the spell becoming difficult to contain. She held on as long as she could before the swelling energy became so intense that it threw her back away from Buffy and landed her on a pile of red rock. 

Buffy raised her pick again, but hesitated. She glanced around, confusion straining her features and arms still in the air, then slowly brought the pick axe down to hang from her hand at her side. "This is...well, oddly not new." She turned away from the wall to get a better view of the cave and saw Willow sitting on the ground, holding her forehead just above her eyes. "Will.." Buffy hurriedly stepped over a pile of rocks to get to her friend, tossing her pick aside and crouching to try and help Willow up. "Are you hurt? Can you walk?"

"Headachy." Willow nodded and waved Buffy away from her, "I'm fine, help everybody else."

"Okay, but stay here. Stay low. What am I looking for?" Buffy gave Willow a quick look over for any visible cuts or bruises then got to her feet and picked up her previously discarded tool. She rested the handle of the pick axe on her shoulder.

Willow reached into her pocket and produced a neatly folded page. She unfolded it and turned the page towards Buffy, holding it so that her index finger pointed to the engraving of Ocato Coh'c. Buffy took the page from her and looked at the image with a frown.

"Ernnn," She whined with a look of slight disgust mixed with, "Clayface. Weaknesses?"

Getting to her feet, Willow shook her head, "Not sure."

Buffy handed the paper back to Willow, "Stay here, recoup. If this .._thing_.. is as bad as it looks I want you to get these people out of here."

All of the color drained from Willow's face and she stared wide eyed over Buffy's shoulder as she tried to scramble to her feet, "Buffy..."

"Will, you need major down-sittings for a minute." Buffy sighed, reluctantly bending to help her friend up, "I can handle the bad, you concentrate on-" She turned away from Willow just in time to be swatted against the cave wall by a large monster that seemed to be made of mud and rock. She hit the wall then the ground with a grunt and slowly looked up at the elemental. "Cheater."

Buffy indolently rose to stand, pulling both fists close to her jaw as she assumed a fighting stance, "Why does this seem familiar?" The beast began to trudge heavily towards her and she dodged another blow, bowing beneath it's swinging arm and ending up behind him. "Hey Genius, I'm back here!" She called to it, picking up a rock and throwing it at the ogre's back. It turned on her and took another swing which she eluded with a small smirk, "That the best you can do?" Buffy started towards the monster in a dead run and leapt, kicking it in the chest with both feet. The monster absorbed the blow with no reaction and Buffy dropped to the ground like a rock, "Oh goody." She grunted in frustration and clamored to her feet, picking up a shovel while still on the ground. She turned back towards the elemental, swinging the shovel around with her and connecting with the monster's jaw. The blow cracking it's head back and eventually off. It fell into a heap of rock and dust on the ground.

Buffy coughed a bit and waved the dust away from her face, the throngs around her beginning to come out of their daze. Drusilla, Sheila and the vampires that had been feeding on the unaware townspeople started backing towards the mouth of the cave. "Wh-what now?" Sheila turned around to see the dust kicked up and shadows of the last of Drusillas minions making their getaway outside of the cave. She'd been abandoned. "Crap!" She dropped the woman she'd been feeding on and took off after them. 

SUMMERLAND ACADEMY - THE DOCKS - NIGHT 

Faith and Giles pulled their swords back, both growling and grunting with determination; they went for the killing blow-. 

Then stopped dead, second-glancing at each other in mild confusion. 

Faith lowered her sword and squinted up at the sky. "Did it just get **dark** out here all of the sudden?" 

SCENE NINE

THE ROLL BAR - THE NEXT NIGHT

"Tragic Bus Accident Kills Eleven." Xander read to Willow aloud from the Meadowbrook local newspaper, "Not a mention of Muddy the Mud Monster."

"Looks like the locals took a course in Sunnydale Mischief Coverups." Fresh from the bar and Diet Pepsi in hand, Buffy joined Xander and Willow at a table near the dance floor. Buffy pulled her hair back away from her face to lay over her shoulders, "So, Choco Taco..."

"Ocato Coh'c." Willow corrected with a small smile.

"Ocato Coh'c.." Buffy amended with uncertainty, "He..._it_... was using the people in town to dig out some effigy?"

Willow nodded and sipped her drink, "Lenith. It's supposed to be hidden in town someplace. Sort of a mouth of evil type of thing."

"Like the Hellmouth?" An oddly hopeful note in Buffy's voice.

"Well, sort of if instead of Hell it was a mega demon waiting to pop out and bite a big ol'e chunk out of the world leaving a bloody, festering hole in this dimension." Willow responded matter of fact-ly, folding her arms in front of her and resting them on the table.

Buffy stared at Willow in quiet disgust and Xander shuddered, "Well I could eat. Anybody else up for spaghetti?"

"The weirdest part, " Willow disregarded Xander's sarcasm, "was that even the our Watcher buddies were kinda spent. You know, mentally. It's like they didn't care about anything, nothing was important to them."

"Yeah, guess you got your wish Buff." Xander casually popped a French fry in his mouth, "No worries for a whole weekend of evil."

Putting her hands up in front of her defensively, Buffy shook her head, "I've officially learned my lesson. A happy, stupid, complacent Buffy is a very dull boy. No more bad-genie wishes for me."

"Good for you." Willow piped, "It's not good to wish for easier things....because...it's never, ever easier. **_Ever_**."

"Kennedy still on the distant side?" Buffy laid a sympathetic hand on Willow's shoulder and Willow shook her head.

"I don't get it, I thought everything was going so good. She's been grouchy lately, and yeah, who could blame her with the wheelchair thing and all." Willow rested her jaw on her hand and sighed weakly and Xander shook his head, motioning to her with a French fry.

"This is normal, love stuff. So she needs a little time? You'll be back to stark nude pillow fights in no time." 

"You're gonna be the old guy in the club, aren't ya?" Buffy shot Xander a questioning smirk, "You know, the one with the pony tail and leisure suit? Who's thirty years older than the girls he's hitting on?" 

Xander sighed fondly and shook his head, "I already am, Buffster. I already am." He rose to his feet and started to move his arms like a clumsy harem dancer, beckoning Willow and Buffy. The women exchanged amused looks and got up as well, following Xander to the dance floor. The three of them bobbed and swayed to the music, smiling and carefree, completely oblivious to Spike who determinedly and intensely watched them from across the room. 

FIN - BASED ON THE TELEVISION SERIES BY JOSS WHEDON. VISIT US ON THE WEB AT NEXT-TUESDAY(dot)ORG


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